Potterwatch
by EruditeWitch
Summary: This is a series of missing moments during Deathly Hallows, centering around the Potterwatch broadcast. As different characters listen to it in a time of crisis, their lives make changes, whether they be for better or worse. R/Hr, George/Angelina, Percy/O
1. Chapter 1

"Potterwatch" 

**Prologue:**

Angelina Johnson adjusted the collar of her finely starched shirt. She carefully slung her favorite diamond necklace around her neck, making sure it sat perfectly centered above her chest. She began slowly tying back her braided hair as her wand tapped against her wireless and she whispered "Moody."

Fred Weasley's voice began to waft through her elegant London flat. She closed her eyes, grateful for the sound of a familiar friend in these frightening times.

"The word from Diagon Alley's underground, and the activities of The Chief and his Deatheaters is that Florean Fortescue has in fact been murdered. As most of you know, our favorite sweets seller has been missing for some time. We have it from an unnamed source that his body was found, tortured to death. Of course, our pals at The Ministry, saving you, Royal, of course, are covering it up. Let us all have a moment of silence for Frotescue and his fantastical frozen foods."

Angelina closed her eyes and was taken back to her first trip to Diagon Alley. She had been so nervous. Despite the fact that her mother was a witch, having a muggle father meant that they had made very few forays into the Wizarding World. She remembered that even though they had been on a very strict schedule on that first outing, her mother had bought her a treat from Mr. Fortescue. She could almost taste the strawberry sparkle trickling down her throat.

"How about you, Royal? What's the word on the war against Muggleborns?" Fred asked.

"At this time, the situation is far beyond just reporting your parentage. They are now taking Muggleborns AND halfbloods and putting them in prisons such as Azkaban. I must stress extreme caution. If you have any reason why they may be after you, please go into hiding. It is not safe in our world at the moment." Kingsley Shackelbolt's voice boomed out of the small speakers of her wireless.

Angelina shuddered with fear as she slipped on her best pinstriped skirt and heels. Fear gripped her. Her parents were pretty well hidden, but Angelina felt that as the lead chaser of the HolyHead Harpies, she was able to live alone and unscathed. Now, she was sure what she had to do as she heard George Weasley deliver the usual messages.

"Raconteur here with our muggle to Muggleborn messages of the day. Penelope Clearwater, while your taste in men is still horrifying, your mother would like you to know all is well, and she hopes you are safe.

"Collin and Dennis Creevy, your parents are well.

"Once again, if you need to know of someone, contact Potterwatch and we'll see what we can do. You know where to find us," George said softly. Angelina laughed at the irony, as the people she was most worried about were Fred and George.

"Romulus here. As always, there has been no sign of Harry Potter. But remember, there are so many out there with you, Harry, wherever you are. Keep faith. Keep Safe. The next password is Fawkes," Professor Lupin said. A flash of static took over her sitting room before Angelina turned her radio off. She sighed, pulled on her finest robe and apparated to the entry of the Ministry of Magic.

After going through the awkward and disgusting security procedure, she made her way down the long Ministry corridor to Ludo Bagman's office. She opened the door and gently smiled at Gwenog Jones and Ludo as they offered greetings to her.

"Oh hullo Johnson. It's great to see you, though I'm a little confused as to why you needed to have a meeting in the off season, with Bagman," Gwenog spoke gently at first but spit out the last part in disgust.

"Yes, darling. What's all the fuss?" Ludo asked, red faced and still jolly, though Angelina noticed that her two associates were exchanging tense glances with each other.

"I've come to tender my resignation," Angelina said quickly, holding her breath.

She was surprised to see Gwenog nodding resignedly. It was a little more than odd she wasn't fighting it, or even asking for an explanation. Angelina was not arrogant, but she knew that her leaving would hurt the team. Even more surprising was the exchange that occurred when Ludo left to get the paperwork.

"Angelina! You have to get out of here right now!" Gwenog whispered frantically, grabbing her robes. "The Ministry has been asking about the bloodlines of my players. Bagman knows! I bet you anything that oaf is getting a squad to take you away right now!"

Angelina understood, but panicked nonetheless when she heard footsteps approaching the office.

"When the door opens, run. I'll distract them," her captain said as Angelina felt the cold trickle of a disillusionment charm drip down her back.

The door crashed open and Ludo was flanked with two horrifying looking men. Gwenog screamed and grabbed her knee.

"My ACL!" Angelina heard her yell as she slipped through the open door. Moments later, she was well on her way to the exit before she even saw her would-be captors. She silently thanked something for her strong and athletic legs. Once she spotted the doors, she grabbed a flyer with a list of names on it, and she was out and had apparated to Weasley Wizarding Wheezes before her charm had even worn off. Angelina had no idea why she chose to go to Fred and George, but it seemed like the safest place during her moment of truth.

Fred and George Weasley were some of her best friends, even if she and Fred had once been an item. She knew they would take her in until she could find a better place to hide. Angelina also knew their wide grins and humor would help to eliminate the sting of fear and uncertainty that currently weighted down her chest. She realized that it was raining, and her ponderings had quickly allowed time for her to become soaked to the bone, so she took a deep breath and walked through the shop's front door.

"Ahhh finally! A brave soul who will risk loosing her neck to slip a Deatheater some U-No-Poo! Let me tell…" George stopped short when he came upon Angelina. "Oh Angie! You're soaked! What brings you here in this weather?" George asked, removing his maroon robes and wrapping them around Angelina's shoulders, letting his bare arms linger around her and his naked chest press up against her body for warmth until her shaking died down. Angelina didn't want to pull away, as George's sweet smell and heat soothed her and made her feel happier than she should feel in her current situation. A tear fell down her cheek.

George pulled back to meet her eyes when she let out an involuntary sniffle. George was the same height as she, and he met her eyes immediately as he brushed the tear from her cheek. Angelina inwardly chastised herself for getting so weepy, and immediately jutted her jaw out to assume her normal tough façade.

George flashed her a grin that clearly said "I see right through you," before guiding her to the doorway leading up to their flat.

"Fred is in the stock room, I'll get him and we'll close up early. Just make yourself at home, do what you would normally do. Take off your shoes, coat, skirt…anything!"

"You're quite brave considering I can kick your arse, Weasley," Angelina said, feeling lighter as she climbed the stairs.

"Anything to see that perfect arse walking away!" George shouted, and scuttled back into the shop before she could retaliate.

She served herself some tea, and prepared cups for Fred and George as well. She smiled as she generously lumped sugar into each cup, and then sighed contentedly as she added cream to George's. She sat at their small kitchen table and ran a finger around the rim of her teacup until she heard Fred and George traipsing up the stairs.

"Oh Gi Gi!" Fred exclaimed, his long arms coming around her. Angelina cringed slightly at the nickname, but was content at its familiarity. She let Fred's warmth radiate through her much as she had with George.

"Well, they're after me now. Though I shouldn't be so surprised, with the way the world is now. I was fucking ridiculous to think Quidditch would keep me safe!" she cried, fighting tears as she handed Fred the Ministry list. "Here's a list of everyone who hasn't reported for questioning and should be considered wanted."

"Blimey! Granger is on here…"

"No surprise," answered George.

"And Dean Thomas…"

"Hardly shocking."

"The Creevy boys..."

"Obviously."

"Penelope Clearwater…"

"But of course…wait! They are going after…"

"Halfbloods? Obviously. That is why the lovely Ms. Johnson is seeking shelter here," Fred finished, grinning and touching her hand reassuringly. He turned to look at George, and touched his hand too.

"Oh my stars! You are my hero, Fred Weasley!" George proclaimed in a feminine voice, batting his eyelashes. "Please take me with your massive and throbbing…biceps!" George threw a hand over his head and feigned fainting.

Angelina had to chuckle. Leave it to these two to lighten even the heaviest of loads.

"I'm going to give this to Romulus, as I'm sure he'll see people who can better spread the word," Fred said, winking as he disapparated with the list clenched in his hand.

George immediately began tinkering around the kitchen. "I reckon I could warm up mum's stew while we wait for him. Are you hungry?"

"A little. It's been a rough day, and my stomach is a little queasy. Now I'm worried about Fred being out this late with that list, which isn't helping."

"It's a wonder you two never lasted past Hogwarts. You were such a catch. I was jealous," George exclaimed, blushing.

"Oh we had fun, and I'll always love Fred, but permanent companionship isn't his thing…and to tell the truth, we wouldn't have worked anyway."

George shoulders slumped uncharacteristically before turning to her. "Why's that?"

"Well…he's not…he's just…it wasn't like love. It just didn't make my heart flutter. Oh bugger! I sound mental. Sorry about that."

George turned away from the stove and laid a warm bowl of stew in front of her. As if on cue, Fred's ermine patronus appeared at the table.

"I found Remus and gave him the news. He seemed distracted, but oh well. I'm at the Leaky Cauldron. Lee is out and about and Spinnet's tits are practically falling out!" the ghostly figure sang.

"You can go down if you'd like. I'll be fine. I'm no delicate flower, you know," Angelina said, popping a stewed carrot in her mouth and trying to look mildly happy and at ease.

"You don't need to tell me that! You weren't exaggerating when you said you could kick my arse. But I like that in a woman anyway," George smirked, giving her a sparkling look that made her heart speed up. " I'll keep you company, I don't feel much like going out…though if your tits happen to…"

"Don't even think…oh sweet Merlin!" Angelina suddenly shrieked. George drew his wand and began spinning in all directions.

"What! Where! Get Down!" he said, his normally carefree eyes wide and determined.

Angelina rose and walked over to him. "What happened to your face," She said, barely able to speak at the site of a scar that ran along his jaw and up into the depths of his shoulder length hair. He sighed and told her of the night they all went to get Harry. Her stomach dropped at imagining the kind of danger and death her dear friends all faced. She had known little about the night Moody died, and this made the danger even more real.

"I'll be fine. I like long hair anyway," George said, turning his serious look into a grin.

Angelina bit her lip and reached up, brushing his hair away from his face. She let her dark fingers caress the long expanse of white scar tissue where his ear should be. He placed a hand over the one on his face, and pressed his lips to her palm.

"I'll be okay. We'll be okay. I promise," He whispered, closing his eyes and turning his face further into her touch.

* * *

Percy Weasley placed the headphones of his Muggle wireless over his ears to catch the tail end of Potterwatch. He felt a smug sense of satisfaction at being able to magically manipulate this Muggle device, followed quickly by a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of how excited his tinkering would have made his father. He sighed, turned up the volume, and began the short walk to his flat, just blocks from The Leaky Cauldron. Fred's voice echoed with familiarity inside of his head.

"We've just gotten word that in London, near the Leaky Cauldron, Death Eaters have started setting fire to all the Muggle dwellings. They appear to by trying to gain more wizarding territory. There is no doubt this incident will go unnoticed by all of the important sources. If you happen to live in the area, especially if you are a pompous and big-headed git…please…PLEASE, beware and keep yourself safe."

Percy's heart raced slightly. His brothers knew where he lived, and they gave a damn about him on top of. He had a moment to feel a little less alone in the world.

Just then, a shriek could be heard to Percy's left, just across the road from his apartment building. Thinking quickly, he lifted the hood on his dark cloak and snuck into the bushes near the spot where the fire was worst. While trying to plan a way into the house to help the screaming woman, Percy inwardly kicked himself for the mess he'd made of his life. He was working for an organization that was despicable, with no way out that wouldn't draw attention to his family. He was alone, stuck in some sort of limbo and now he was being ridiculous, operating under the achingly Gryffindor assumption that he could do some odd penance by helping this poor woman. His mind was muddled to say the least.

Suddenly, the intense heat invading the building burst forth, clearing the glass almost completely from a large window. Percy cast an _impervious_ charm on his clothing, and a bubblehead charm on his head before entering the smoking, flaming room. The screaming had stopped, and Percy feared what he might stumble on. He skulked through the small flat, keeping his keen ears perked to listen to the shouts of Death Eaters in case they decided to come back.

He heard an absurd, high-pitched whimper coming from the hallway and darted there quietly, casting an _Aguamenti Charm _as he went. He found the woman there in the smoke, unconscious and clutching a notebook, while her black and white cat mewled to try to get her attention. The cat turned its large green eyes on Percy and backed away as if giving him permission to approach her. He knelt down and felt for a pulse, and was happy to find that there was one.

Percy stood back up and frantically looked around for something else to carry her with, not wanting to use a spell on a Muggle. He found none, and decided as the Death Eaters could be heard approaching, he had better just Apparate to his flat. He took the not very petite woman, who looked almost young enough to be called a girl, in his arms and she stirred.

"Why are they here? What's…what's…who…" she whispered wearily before fainting again.

He pulled her close to prevent splinching, all the while repeating "destination, deliberation, and determination", in an effort to calm his nerves. The strange cat tapped its paw on his arm as if comforting him, and then leapt into the unconscious woman's arms as he apparated.

When he arrived in his living room, he quickly collapsed under her weight while her cat turned its tail and began to unabashedly explore Percy's home. Percy gently laid the girl down on the floor and began to try to shake her awake. After a few attempts, her eyes fluttered open to reveal a pair of forest green eyes blinking up at him.

"Where am I?"

"You're okay for now."

"What happened?"

"A fire. You're safe, but you've ingested a lot of smoke. If you can walk, I'd like to take you to my room to rest."

Percy knew she would have protested, but she was too exhausted by the looks of it. She rose carefully, and he threw her arm over his shoulder, guiding her to his bed.

Percy knew he should have taken her to a hospital, but where could he take her? He had no means to get her to a Muggle hospital, especially not in the Muggle way, and he had no idea how to call an am-bo-lance…as it was obviously not like calling the Knight Bus. And to bring a Muggle into St. Mungo's? Perish the thought.

Percy sat in his favorite leather chair by the window, dimming the lights to keep watch; to make sure the Death Eaters were finished with their tirades. Eventually, with the warm cat purring in his lap, Percy drifted off to sleep.

"Lucy…" A strained whisper rang through Percy's sleep, as the warmth left his lap. Realizing his injured victim was awake; Percy quickly leapt from his chair and straightened his robes.

"I must know how I ended up here. The last I remember, there was a fire, and smoke was coming under my front door," she spoke tersely and assumed a dignified position, despite being very sleep-worn and covered in soot.

"I've pulled you from said fire, madam. I did not know of your condition, so I brought you here to observe."

"Why didn't the firemen come?"

"That I cannot say."

"Well you've saved me, and you've saved my cat as well. I am not dead or harmed. I shall call my mother and arrange to stay with her. I will say that I am still highly suspicious of this whole situation," she said, looking around Percy's flat.

"I…ummm… I…moo byle is at work," Percy shouted frantically as she began to look for a phone.

"Your mobile you mean?"

"Right, sorry. I inhaled a lot of smoke last night," said Percy, covering up his error with a loud cough.

Her stern face seemed to turn a little warmer at his sorry sounding throat. Percy finally got a chance to really look at her then. She was tall, though shorter than his wiry form. Amongst the soot, he could make out long, honey brown hair highlighted with blonde strips. She was larger … a little round in the middle … but she held herself elegantly. In addition, Percy thought that her curves looked enticing, even while she eyed him with so much doubt and a slight bit of fear.

"I would hate to be a bother, what with you having already risked your gorgeous hair to help me…" She paused, blushing at what she had just said.

Percy felt his cheeks heat up too.

"Well…," she continued, "I seem to have lost my glasses in the fire, and I would like to hail a taxi, but may need some company to make sure I don't hail a mail truck. Would you mind?" She laughed nervously, her impressive composure faltering slightly.

"Not at all!" Percy smiled, bowing slightly, and pulling on his own glasses.

She grinned again.

"Well, let me fetch my dissertation and we'll be on our way!"

Percy was confused, as he had no idea what sort of Muggle nonsense a dissertation was, but he had no time to contemplate, the answer because she soon reappeared, bound notebook in her hand. Percy opened his door and she walked out, head held high, despite her squinting. Lucy sat hesitantly at the door.

"Well come on then, Lucy, you can't very well stay here!" Percy said. Never having had a cat for a pet before, he snapped his fingers and hoped that worked, as it often did with Hermes. She trotted along behind them, and they made their way to the curb. Percy thought her almost too intelligent for a mere Muggle pet.

"I feel as though I should thank you properly, now that I see my building is damaged and you are not some sort of serial murderer," she said, the absurdity of her words not affecting her commanding demeanor.

"Well not that you know of!" Percy exclaimed, attempting humor in what was quickly turning into an awkward situation. She looked shiftily back and forth, laughing awkwardly and reaching for the handle to the cab door. "I am merely kidding," he managed to mumble out through is embarrassment.

"Well, then barring any other slips of the tongue by either one of us on this very strange morning, let me offer to buy you dinner. Say, Friday night? I can be here to meet you at seven o'clock," she said as warm smile stretched across her face causing Percy to get a little bit weak. She had a mysterious sort of heat about her and an obvious spark of intellect that drew Percy to her. She also seemed quite capable of keeping him there, lost in her soft features and caring eyes.

"Sounds lovely," Percy said as she got into the cab, Lucy jumping in after her. "I'm Percy."

"I'm Audrey!" She shouted as the cab drove away.


	2. Fidelity

**"Potterwatch" Chapter 1:**

**Fidelity**

_I never loved nobody fully  
Always one foot on the ground  
And by protecting my heart truly  
I got lost in the sounds_

Angelina decided she wanted to stick around Diagon Alley and help fight because the only thing worse to her than feeling scared and alone was feeling useless. So here she was, doing the heartbreaking work of gathering up information from and for Muggle families in regard to their Muggleborn children. She felt it eased the tension in the back of so many minds, including her own, to at least give some word about how loved ones were doing. After gathering her information, she would hand it over to George. Angelina was offered a spot on the show, but she felt George's voice was more suited for delicate words.

She clutched the secret missive delivered by Justin Finch-Fletchly asking them to tell his mother he was well and to get some word about her and their family for the broadcast. It was getting dark as she knocked on the door of the Finch-Fletchly home.

A very small, thin woman with pale skin and round eyes answered the door.

"I'm Raven, I have word from your finch," She whispered. The woman let her inside immediately. There was a tense silence in the grand, stainless steel kitchen as Mrs. Finch-Fletchly fixed tea for both of them. Angelina decided to start talking.

"He sends word that he is well," Angelina started, consulting her notebook. Her heart went out to the mother as she met Angelina's eyes, her shaking hands spilling the tea slightly as she set a cup in front of her guest.

"He says he is warm, dry, well fed…and he says to tell you he's keeping Barney close too, even if it's lame," Angelina continued, not quite sure what message she was relaying.

The woman laughed, even as tears fell down her cheeks.

"Barney is his stuffed animal, a small dog I bought for him when he was young and on his way to Hogwarts," she paused to delicately wipe her eyes on a white handkerchief. "I shoved it into his arms as he left a few weeks ago. I guess I just didn't want him to feel alone."

Angelina patted her hand gently, unsure of what to do with all of the tenderness. It was far safer to contact Muggle families in person, but the downfall was a sharp look inside of herself for the former Quidditch star.

For years now, she'd focused on her career, never allowing her head to get lost somewhere in her heart. She lived her life with an emphasis on strength. Now, in the midst of fear and doubt, Angelina was finding it harder to remain strong, and to stay alone. Seeing mothers and lovers weep for their own made her involuntarily think about who she would weep for, and vice versa. There was her mother and father…but who else? The answer shook her to the core.

She had no one. There was no one to cling to when she feared the worst. There was no one to kiss her. There was no one to fill the emptiness that invaded her as she hid from the world.

_I hear in my mind  
All these voices  
I hear in my mind all these words  
I hear in my mind all this music  
And it breaks my heart_

Angelina took Mrs. Finch-Fletchly's message, holding back bitter tears, and Apparated for the cave in Afton where the radio program was currently being broadcast, somewhere near Kingsley Shackelbolt's summer home.

Her heart began to race as she saw the production equipment destroyed, papers and curse burns scattered everywhere, and to her horror, blood on the walls. Thinking quickly, she lit her notebook on fire with her wand.

As she turned to Disapparate, pain seared through her body, and she hit her head against the pavement with a dizzying crack.

"Where are they? Who are these subversive cowards?" Shouted the masked man before casting the _Cruciatus Curse _on her again for what seemed like an eternity.

As the pain subsided, and she caught her breath, a gloved hand circled around her wrists. Through the bloodstained tears of pain in her eyes, she saw a man dressed completely in black and wearing a Muggle ski cap. She knew those blue-green eyes and that kind gaze anywhere.

George used Side-Along Apparation to whisk her away from the terror.

_And suppose I never met you  
Suppose we never fell in love  
Suppose I never ever let you kiss me so sweet and so soft  
Suppose I never ever saw you_

Angelina clutched desperately to George's arms, torso, and shoulders, anything she could find when they landed safely on the living room floor. She couldn't focus. She couldn't think. She only wanted the pain to stop. She felt like screaming, and for all she knew, she did.

"Shhhh Angie. Angie! You're okay. I've got you. You're safe…" George's voice echoed in her head. She could feel his warm breath on her neck, his arms wrapping tightly around her. She could only answer in whimpers and tears, her voice failing her.

"You need to lie down. We have Remus take a look at you. Can we levitate you to your bed?" he whispered, taking her hand. She gave what she hoped was an affirmative squeeze, and soon she was weightless, floating down the hall.

She was laid gently on her bed in the Weasley twins' guest room, where she saw Fred placing pillows behind her head, his arm heavily bandaged. Remus and Lee Jordan were working to remove her cloak, so she moved as much as she could to help through the pain of what felt like dying muscles.

"I burned the notebook. They didn't see it," she croaked, desperate to ease their minds.

"That's no bother right now, Gi Gi," Fred whispered, holding a glass of water to her lips. Though her throat ached from screaming, she swallowed a few cool drops.

"How did they find you guys out? I thought it was safe!" Angelina exclaimed, trying her best to take stock of the situation. Remus shook his head.

"Apparently someone found a way to track our magical signal. We were unwise in not anticipating that. Luckily Lee here knows his equipment and next time we set up shop, he'll have us untraceable."

As Remus began to gently lift her limbs and run his wand over her, George leaned in to wipe the mess of blood and tears from her face.

"I don't believe they did it so hard your eyes bled, Johnson!" Lee exclaimed, and Angelina felt panic flood into her, and her breathing quickened. She felt long fingers take the sides of her face as Fred threatened to shove Lee's wand up his arse for being so insensitive. She looked up to find George holding her face gently like she had done the night she came to their flat.

"You'll be okay, love. You're safe here, and we'll have you fixed up in no time…and we'll let you kick Lee anywhere you want when we've finished!"

"Well I could do that anyway," she whispered, smiling.

"Ms. Johnson, can you think of any other injuries that are cause for concern?" Remus asked her, leaning over.

"My head," she indicated, attempting to roll over. Sets of hands carefully rolled her on her side. She felt a stinging sensation on the back of her head from the spell, and she reached out for Fred who was standing in front of her. He gripped her hand tightly.

"Okay," Remus sighed. "I'm going to give you a pain potion, and then I'm going to give you a sleeping draught. You had a concussion and I need to do some complicated healing spells."

Angelina nodded and soon, surrounded by the concerned eyes of her best friends, she drifted off.

She opened her eyes to complete darkness, save for the faint glow of the moon and lights of London filtering through the window. She attempted to lift her head slowly off her pillow, finding she could do it in spite of the pain. A very loud, choking sort of snort drew her attention to the foot of her bed.

George was lying shirtless, sprawled across her feet. She could tell it was George, because Fred had a collection of freckles on his shoulder shaped like Ursa Major. She had to chuckle as George's strangled snores reverberated off the walls. She wiggled her toes to get his attention.

George leapt up, tripping over a chair near the bed and cursed loudly. He turned to face her with his long hair tied back, and the creases of a slept-on blanket corrupting his face.

"Remus said to take this, it'll take the pain out of your head," George said, handing her some amber liquid. She drank it greedily, and felt instantly better. She wanted nothing more than to get up and move around. She stood up and stretched, clad only in jeans and a camisole, and examined the bruises on her body.

"I'm sorry for getting you into this, Angie," George said, standing closer to her. Angelina felt anger surge through her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for! You didn't torture me and I chose to be here," she said, grabbing the sides of his face. He lowered his eyes in uncharacteristic acquiescence. "How did you know to come back for me?"

"I remembered you were on your way with the muggle contacts. I couldn't let you come across that alone."

Angelina felt as though she would explode. Flashes of her torture, her career, her romance with Fred, and the tears of Mrs. Finch-Fletchly danced inside of her mind. Then, all she saw were George's eyes, comforting her that rainy night, rescuing her from the hands of death, and staring back at her now with the same amount of intensity she felt.

She couldn't take it any longer. She couldn't take any of it: Being lonely and scared, feeling helpless and undeniably young…it was all weighing heavily on her. She broke as she held his face in her hands, as she watched his bare chest rise and fall. She kissed him. She had no choice.

After a sharp intake of breath and a tensing in his muscles, George responded fervently to her haphazard kiss. She felt her braids lift off of her back as George's hands threaded in her hair. She couldn't help but moan when his smooth lips brushed down her neck. She ran her hands up the warm, smooth skin on his back, eliciting a light groan from him and causing him to grip her arse firmly. As Angelina felt the heat pool in her center, she also became more aware of her actions.

"George. George…what are we doing?" She whimpered as his hand moved across her bare shoulders and lowered the straps of her top.

"Well, I believe we were snogging," he smirked, running a single long finger across her cheek. She had to fight to not grab his hand and kiss his palm.

"You guys are my best friends," she said, a little more firmly. George leaned in to her and pressed his lips to her ear.

"Oh Angie, just let go, love. Let go." he whispered, and suddenly she couldn't hold on any longer. She pressed her lips against his, holding tightly to every part of him and keeping him as close as she could. He lifted her thin camisole over her heard only allowing his lips to leave her when the shirt passed between their faces. His mouth traced a path, kissing the still fresh bruises from her ordeal.

She grew desperate for more contact, and deftly undid the buttons of his sleek black trousers. He lowered them and his boxers quickly to the floor.

His pale pink cock was hard with desire, and she wasn't surprised to see he was just as well endowed as Fred. She let her hand close over his heat, and was still amazed at how dark and smooth her skin appeared on such a light canvas. George's breathing had quickened dramatically. At last she met his eyes and found them darker and more serious than she had ever seen them before. He crashed into her, attacking her lips with a feral growl before quickly removing her bra.

When her bare breasts pressed up against his warm skin, she shuddered noticeably, encouraging him to move his kisses there. He took her dark nipple into his mouth and began pulling gently. When she moaned, so did he, and they soon fell back against the bed.

George leaned over her, supported by his long arms, with a warm and excited smile on his face. Angelina felt such a force in her chest that it took her breath away.

No one had ever looked at her that way.

He made quick work of removing her jeans and knickers, letting his erection rub lightly against her center as he came back up to kiss her. She bucked her hips only to be met with his hand. Soon his fingers were upon of her, running quickly over her lips before pressing deeply into her. He didn't need to spend long there for her to feel ready to explode, as she already wanted him so intensely. He pulled out his fingers just as she could feel the tension building and pressed his nose into her neck.

"I almost lost you, Angie. I can't live without you," he whispered as he pushed his cock slowly into her.

Angelina let out a yell, the feeling of being stopped only moments before orgasm quickly replaced by the more intense feeling of being filled caused stars to flash in her eyes.

She rocked her hips up to meet his, her clit pressing firmly against his body. He moaned again, thrusting back with equal force. Soon they began rocking in perfect rhythm, her dark skin sliding against his lily white. Without trying they moved together in the fashion of practiced lovers.

When Angelina came, George followed her over the edge, letting out a moan and whispering her name. He hooked his arms under her shoulders, and with the force of someone much larger, he pulled her up to meet his lips.

Soon, he pulled away, breathing heavily, and sleeping almost instantly.

Angelina lay in the darkness, torn between her need to feel strong and her need to feel loved. She didn't think she could have it both ways. She remembered back to their last year at Hogwarts, after she and Fred had ended their relationship for the final time, when Lee had desperately wanted to date her. It had almost torn their little group apart. She couldn't lose her lifeline. She took one last longing look at George and wrote a letter.

She needed to leave this behind before she lost sight of herself, and lost her friends in the process.

Then, she Apparated to her aunt's bungalow in Hertfordshire, where her parents were in hiding. She tried not to look back.

_Suppose we never ever called  
Suppose I kept on singing love songs just to break my own fall  
Just to break my fall  
Just to break my fall_

_-From "Fidelity" by Regina Spektor_

**AN: Okay folks! There's the first official chapter. There was a lot of speculation about George and Angelina running into problems pre Fred's death in the worries that Fred still loved Angelina. I decided to take a slightly different look at their relationship. After all, Fred and George know everything about each other.**


	3. Trouble Sleeping

"**Potterwatch"**

**Chapter 2: Trouble Sleeping**

**It's late and I'm feeling so tired  
Having trouble sleeping.  
This constant compromise  
Between thinking and breathing.**

She was back in the fire, scrambling to save what she could with Lucy held calmly in her arms. She found her notes and placed her emergency floppy disk in the fold of her notebook. She heard footsteps, and turned around to see a man in a hood and some sort of mask. She attempted to run, but he got to her first and as she felt something hit her back, she fell to her kitchen floor.

Audrey Burnette woke to find her head resting upon a pile of papers at her makeshift desk in her childhood bedroom. She elegantly unstuck a piece of paper from her face and shook her head vigorously.

"Well now, that was an odd dream, wasn't it, Lucy? Although, I have been having that one a lot lately…and it feels more like a memory…" Audrey pondered out loud, knowing Lucy didn't really understand anyway.

"I will just have to ask Percy when I see him tonight," Audrey said, rising from her chair. At the mention of his name, Lucy leapt up on the desk and started to excitedly bat at papers that had been balled up.

Audrey was more than a little excited to be meeting this mysterious ginger man for dinner. For the past year, she had practically lived at university; meeting with professors, colleagues, and research subjects. She definitely knew nonverbal communication inside and out, but a lot of good it did. She never seemed to experience new people. Audrey laughed to herself, it wasn't like she had much reason to deviate from her studies, having not gotten many worthwhile offers. Despite this, she was still slightly giddy at getting to know a man who bravely, and suspiciously, pulled her from a burning building.

Audrey opened up her closet and frowned. After the fire, she only had what she had recently bought with her father's credit card. As a result, she only had two suits, one with trousers and one skirted, a pair of jeans, some jumpers, and a little black dress. She pulled out her clothing and began to analyze it. After all, appearance is in itself a way to communicate something.

What did she communicate? That she had just had all her clothes burned and this is all she could put together.

She had no idea what prompted her to buy a little black cocktail dress, especially one so low cut. Audrey had successfully avoided even thinking about romance, let alone outfits that encouraged it, since she started working on her Ph.D. And if she were perfectly honest with herself, she had pretty much avoided it before then too. Matters of the heart made no sense to her.

So here she was, trying to figure out what clues she wanted to send and with what outfit. The cocktail dress was out, as she wasn't sure if this was even a date. Jeans made it seem as though she didn't care, so she would have to wear a suit, or at least her black and red pinstriped skirt.

She slid the skirt over her hips, disappointed slightly at how they protruded. Then, she put on a black silk undershirt. Audrey couldn't decide whether or not she was happy about the way her breasts seemed to pop out from the red sweater she had now donned. Did it send the wrong message? What was her message?

She smiled slightly, imagining his messy red hair and his soft brown eyes as she rushed down the hall to borrow some stockings and heels from her mother. She quickly chastised herself for getting her hopes up. There was no use getting all soggy over some bloke … and yet … as she slipped the long black silk stockings over her thick thighs, a shudder of excitement she hadn't felt in years went down her spine.

Audrey paid the taxi driver and nervously stepped out of the cab. She walked a short way down the ancient cobbled sidewalk, listening to the 'click' of her mother's patent leather heels as she tried to calm her stomach. She quickened her pace as she passed her burned-down building; an uneasy and inexplicable fear seemed to overtake her subconscious mind. The same man in the black hood flashed in her eyes, but it was quickly put out as she saw Percy standing beneath a light post in front of his building.

"Oh, hello Audrey," He exclaimed, taking her hand gently in his. It was such a small gesture, but one that seemed to speak directly to her. "How have you been getting along at your mother's?" He asked, holding his arm out. She paused momentarily, unsure of what to do with such an old-fashioned gesture, but then took his arm happily and continued to walk toward a small bistro at which she had made reservations.

"I'm getting on alright. I had to purchase some new clothes, but at least I saved my research, or really, you did."

"Oh wonderful! What are you researching?" He asked, looking genuinely fascinated and a little nervous at making light conversation. Audrey felt a little tension ease for her. He obviously shared her passion for discovery.

"I'm studying the use and application of certain nonverbal communication skills in interpersonal settings. Basically, the body language between intimate relations."

"That is astounding. I didn't even know you could study that," He said, trailing off and sounding thoroughly confused.

"It's quite common to study. Have you attended a university?"

"You could say that."

"What did you study?"

"Ummmmm…well…government," He answered, but his eyes were shifting uncomfortably to his left. Audrey knew at that moment he had something to hide.

"So you're a Poli-Sci geek!" Audrey exclaimed, deciding to chalk up his awkward behavior as shyness.

"Right. So here we are," he said hurriedly as Audrey saw a false smile plastered on his face. Again, Audrey decided to let it slide.

He held open the door for her, and as she walked past him, she felt his long fingers brush up against the small of her back…she couldn't fight a slight swoon.

They sat down at a small table near the window, Percy pulling out her own chair before seating himself. They both let out a nervous laugh as they proceeded to fold their napkins into their laps in the exact same fashion. A tall, husky waiter approached them to take their drink orders.

"If the lady pleases, I would enjoy a Cabernet Sauvignon," Percy said with so much elegance that some might see him as arrogant. Audrey found it adorable.

"That sounds lovely," Audrey answered, handing the waiter back the wine list. She was about to turn her attention back to her menu, but she had to let out a gasp of fright as a large owl stared back at her.

"Oh bloody hell!" She heard Percy mumble. "I just forgot. I must phone work," he said, quickly leaving the table.

Audrey marveled at how easy he was to read. He obviously feared owls. Luckily, by the time he returned, the own was gone.

"What was…" Audrey started, but was interrupted.

"So tell me more about your research studies," Percy said, again with a genuine spark in his eyes.

Over their delicious wine, she explained the principles and science behind reading people's physical expressions, and he caught on quickly…as did the wine.

"Audrey, that couple over there…He wants to kiss her badly, as all he does is look at her lips," Percy commented, smirking slightly, cheeks red from the wine.

"Why yes, Percy. And that woman over there is obviously smitten with that man, as her hands find any reason to touch him," She said, wanting so badly to touch his hand that rested on the table in front of her.

"And what for dinner?" Asked the waiter, who seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"I'll have Canard avec ris, ci vous plait," she said. "Do you need me to order for you?"

"No thank you. I would like the Coq Au Vin, ci vous plait, He said, smiling back at her with such warmth that she felt they were kindred spirits; cold on the outside, but never lacking in inner warmth.

"Oh! Parlez-vous francais?"

"A bit. My brother's girlfriend, well wife now, taught me a bit.

"What's your family like? I am an only child. I bet it's nice to have siblings."

At this, Percy became very focused on his food, cleared his throat, and never met her eyes. Maybe it was the wine, but Audrey reached out and curled her fingers into his. Percy looked up, a great sadness on his face.

"My family are not speaking to me, and for a long time I thought I was in the right. But lately, things have been happening to prove I was a prat. I just don't know if they'll ever forgive me," He said, glancing at their intertwined hands. She knew that's all she would get from him on the matter, so she tried to offer some comfort.

"Sometimes, you have to acquiesce just a little to gain some better ground," She said quietly. He looked up and nodded slightly.

Suddenly, as the plates were cleared, a soft and familiar tune wafted through her ears, and a feeling of nostalgia and old romance entranced Audrey momentarily.

"Cole Porter," whispered Percy, breaking her from her reverie.

"Oh you like him too?"

"My father redid this old Muggle record player and he'd always play Cole Porter while he worked in his shop."

"Muggle?"

"Let's dance," Percy said, taking her hand and twirling her onto the small wooden dance floor.

Percy Weasley was a wonderful dancer, as he seemed to command a hurried sort of elegance and a bit of flourish very uncharacteristic of himself. Audrey wasn't surprised, however, as dancing was a series of rules or beliefs, and of common practices, all of which her partner could easily commit to memory and turn into a science. She enjoyed gliding lightly in the little bistro, feeling small, beautiful, and best of all noticed.

The music slowed and his careful brown eyes met hers for a moment before his face settled into a smile and he pulled her more closely to himself. As she was gazing up at his long face, seeing the light reflected in his glasses, she got a flash of memory that gave her pause.

She remembered seeing Percy come for her before passing out completely. He looked like his head was encased in glass. The flames never touched him and the smoke didn't make him falter. Audrey just shook off the thought as bleary-eyed delusion and leaned her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms more tightly around her and sighed deeply. He seemed so aloof, yet Audrey couldn't avoid the energy she felt just below the surface. He held her not only like he wanted to, but also like he needed to.

She reluctantly left the dance floor, hand in hand, as the bistro began to close. She paid the check, finding it odd that he didn't offer, despite his traditional attitude.

"Fancy a stroll? I don't really feel like greeting that empty flat on a night like this," He asked, holding the door for her.

"There's a lovely garden next to St. Christopher's," she said, resting into the arm he had flung neatly over her shoulders.

They walked for a time on the ancient sidewalk. The garden seemed alarmingly quiet, with only night birds flapping and a breeze whipping around their heads.

"I've got to honest, I didn't expect any of this. It's been so long since I've even thought of matters of the heart," Percy said, looking down at her and tucking her hair delicately behind her ears. She could almost hear apprehension in his voice, thought his fingers were deft and calm.

"I know what you mean. This all feels like it's happening so quickly. You must be awfully pleased with yourself!" She said, a shudder of laughter running through them both. A cool breeze sent a chill down her spine.

"Well I've never been so drawn to someone after one dinner," he started, wrapping a red and gold scarf around her neck. "So naturally I can't believe my luck," he leaned in, kissing her softly, letting his hands linger at her neck.

_Could it be I'm suffering  
Because I never give in?  
Won't say that I'm falling in love  
Tell me I don't seem myself  
Couldn't I blame something else?_

_Just don't say I'm falling in love_

When he pulled away, she remained, blushing in his arms. She was fiddling shyly with the tassels of his scarf when a thought occurred to her: He wore this scarf the night of the fire.

Men in hoods, nameless injuries knocking her to the ground, a man encased in glass and unscathed rescuing her; it was all too much to ignore. She jumped back and gasped, Percy reached into his pocket.

"What's going on?" she asked, uneasily.

"A new courtship…I thought," he said, avoiding her eyes.

"Don't hide. I know how to read people. All I see when I close my eyes are men in black robes and masks. Why didn't the police come? Why isn't this scarf burnt? How!" She paused at the frightened look in his eyes. "How did you manage to walk through fire?"

"I really must go," Percy said, brushing quickly past her.

"I thought there was something here. What do you want from me?"

"Nothing someone like you can give me. I was a fool to think otherwise," he said in such a sad and defeated way, Audrey couldn't be hurt by his words. Her heart was slowly breaking after only one night.

"What's in your pocket, Percy?"

He looked up at her, shocked and then paced for what felt like minutes. She was expecting a gun, or perhaps a badge saying that he worked for some sort of evil secret spy agency of some sort. What she didn't expect was for him to brandish a stick at her.

"Wait…that's not…"

But before Audrey could finish talking, a light emitted from the end of the wood and the park bench began floating.

She couldn't speak.

Then, he lifted his stick and disappeared, only to reappear right beside her, looking overwhelmingly afraid.

She sputtered, but couldn't find words. Her head kept whipping around looking for any explanation or logical reason why what she saw had happened, but she found nothing. She was around the twist. That was all she could think to explain this madness. She had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and this man was taking advantage of her.

"My people, wizards, are at war, light against dark. It's spilling into the homes and lives of Muggles…your people."

But she didn't let him finish. She ran swiftly, hailing a cab and not looking back.

She didn't remember getting home, but she was there. She took some sleeping pills and quickly drifted into a dreamless sleep.

_Some kind of therapy  
Is all I need  
Please believe me  
Some instant remedy  
That can cure me completely_

Percy Weasley ran back to his flat, not wanting to linger in the lonely garden another second. He needed no reminders of the damage he had just done. For the first time in a very long time, he felt he had someone, he felt he had a friend, and he threw it away. For being so very clever, he was an utter fool when it came to relationships. He couldn't help but ask why he had decided it was a good idea to tell her what he was.

He tapped a series of spells on his door, turned his key, and walked into the small apartment. It was dark, cold, and the only home he had. He carefully lit a candle and pulled the letter he received from that annoying owl out of his pocket. He also noticed that Hermes was looking at him with concern, a letter attached to his leg.

The first letter was from Fleur. Ever since he got the invitation to their wedding, Percy had been writing Fleur. He initially wrote to apologize for not being there, but it had turned into a tense sort of friendship. He would ask her about his family, she would beg him to just come back and apologize. He would tell her about his work, and she would teach him key French phrases. It had turned into an odd sort of friendship. Occasionally, they would even meet for drinks, and her beautiful ice blue eyes would entreat him to come back, and he would tell her they would never accept him.

Her current letter was in response to him mentioning maybe meeting her and Bill for dinner one day:

_Percy,_

_I am sorry, but every time I even mention you, Bill's eyes darken and he gets very angry. He feels you should have been there through all of the mess we've had to deal with in the past few months. This is partially true. As I've told you, things have been frightening and tense. I have decided not to push it any further with him, as he's under a large amount of stress. But I'm sure if you came to him and apologized, we could put an end to all of this. _

_I must go; we are going over to Andromeda Tonks' house to check on Nymphadora. We must only travel at night; so as to not risk giving away anyone's whereabouts._

_Please do keep safe, dear brother. Things will right themselves in the end._

_-Fleur Weasley_

Percy laid the note down miserably. He wasn't surprised at the bitterness his brothers still harbored for him. He was just tired of feeling so alone, of feeling so lost. He knew there wasn't much time to reconcile with his family before he would have to either escape the Ministry or work there to keep the heat off of all of them. Things were quickly falling apart. Percy was now clear which side he was on, but he had no idea how to get there.

The next letter wasn't a letter at all, put a picture. He opened the envelope to find a picture of him, standing proud with his Head Boy badge, the Twins behind him, making faces. Suddenly, Fred turned and looked directly at him.

"Perce, this is a new product for the Wheezes. Now you can send secret messages through photographs! I don't have much time, I just want to know you made it out of that nonsense with the fires okay. Please tap your wand to the photo, say 'Vox Humana', and tell me you're alright."

"Oh, and you're still a git until you admit it to us all!"

Percy smiled, slightly placated from the mess of an evening he had created. Perhaps there was hope for him yet. He decided that the determining factor would be Audrey. If she could love him back, after all of this, he would be ready to fight whatever demons came at him.


	4. Gravity

**Title:** Potterwatch  
**Chapter**: Gravity  
**Author:**EruditeFics  
**Rating:** R  
**Word Count:** around 4000  
**Warnings:** DH Spoilers ahead.  
**Notes:**A Deathly Hallows missing moment. Hermione wants to forget, but she can't yet forgive. Ron needs to feel absolved. Will they do it in time?.

**AN: Okay. I worked really hard on this chapter. It is a hard thing to pull off. So I need some feedback! Did I do okay? **

**Lyrics provided by Sarah Bareillas.**

**Some of this text has been taken from Chapters 22 and 23 of **_**Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows**_** by J.K. Rowling**.

"**Potterwatch" **

**Chapter 3**

**Gravity**

Hermione sat at the small table in their little tent, watching Ron fiddling with his wireless. She pretended to be poring over a book on defensive magic as he tried desperately to find a radio show he had listened to at his brother's. She watched his mouth curve in concentration, watched his broad, thin body bend over different sides of the small radio, and even chuckled silently as he stomped away form the radio like a frustrated child.

It had been two months since he returned, and she was no closer to openly forgiving him for his desertion. Sure, their companionship was almost back to normal, their way of easy bantering and the obvious teamwork required to make it through, but she hadn't forgiven him, and he knew it. She could see the pleading behind his eyes every time his met hers, and it made her want to forget it all right there. But he had hurt her too badly this time, and she didn't know if they could ever be the same. The thought broke her heart, so she avoided his eyes.

_Something always brings me back to you._

_It never takes too long._

_No matter what I say or do,_

_I'll still feel you here,_

_'til the moment I'm gone._

The night he came back, she had never been so happy and so angry in one moment. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and cry when she saw him step awkwardly into the tent, but her broken heart won out and she fought his return. Throughout their long walks, she ached to grasp his hand, but she remembered him leaving as she pleaded for him to stay, so she did nothing.

After they got back from The Lovegoods', she wanted to fling herself on him in relief, but she did no such thing. Everything was at war in her world, and her heart and head were no exceptions. When he took her side, so to speak, in her argument with Harry about The Deathly Hallows, she wanted to kiss him, but instead she just left for her watch, figuring he was only trying to get on her good side anyway.

Ron was holding back too. On difficult paths, there was no arm beneath hers to hold her steady. When she led the way, there wasn't a hand on the small of her back to ensure her. And when she was afraid, she had nowhere to find safety, as his seat was always farthest away from hers. When they walked, he would shove his hands in his pockets and gaze at her furtively from the corners of his eyes.

Despite her best efforts, despite all of her strength, he was still on her mind every night before she slept. She wanted him when the darkness of their lives took over. She needed him beside her.

_You hold me without touch._

_You keep me without chains._

_Never wanted anything so much,_

_Then to drown in your love,_

_And not feel your rain._

Another day, and Ron still had not managed to find the radio show. He finally gave up late one night as Harry walked out of the tent to take the first watch, trying to inconspicuously take the Marauder's map with him.

"Well, we'd better rest up. I've got the middle shift, so you've got to get up quite early," Ron said, standing up and stretching. Hermione found herself blushing at the thinness of his pajama bottoms as they stretched over his body. She quickly hid her face by getting up and busying herself by preparing her bed for sleep.

"Hermione? If you don't mind, could you set an alarm so I can get up and send Harry to bed?" Ron asked. Normally he would not be nearly so polite, and this false courtesy felt so false and unfamiliar that Hermione found herself missing the old Ron.

"Mmmhmm…" She answered, not trusting her actual words. He reached up with his deluminator and took out the lights in the sleeping quarter. Soon, she was lulled into an uneasy sleep.

_Set me free, leave me be. _

_I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.  
Here I am and I stand so tall, _

_Just the way I'm supposed to be.  
But you're on to me and all over me._

She ran her hands down his bare back as he hovered above her in the camp bed. She sighed when he kissed down her neck and his tongue passed over her bare breasts. She could feel the heat pooling in her center as he whispered her name over and over again.

"My own. 'Mione. Hermione!"

She sat up abruptly, Ron's calls waking her from an embarrassing sleep.

"Sorry, but it's time for your watch. I can do it if you're…"

"I'm fine, Ronald. I'm not a porcelain doll."

He chuckled in his old way at her snap, and she couldn't help but smirk as he tucked back in for the remainder of the morning.

Hermione grabbed _Beedle the Bard_ and settled herself in for the 4-hour morning watch. Approximately halfway through her shift, she heard quiet sounds coming from their tiny kitchen. She peeked her head in to find Ron, lit only by his wand, attempting to make tea.

"What are you doing awake?" she whispered, genuinely concerned.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Fine. I've jut got a lot on my mind…of course. I just want to hear how everyone is doing, and I can't get that damned wireless to work!" he said, looking sadly around the low ceilings of the tent.

"Want some tea? I can sit out there for a few. It's chilly anyway, and you need to warm up," he said, giving her a sad smile.

Hermione nodded and climbed into the tent's entrance as Ron was climbing out. As she walked quietly down the steps, she felt his fingers brush lightly down her back. The feeling gave her chills, and she had to close her eyes before making her tea.

_You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.  
When I thought that I was strong.  
But you touch me for a little while_

_And all my fragile strength is gone._

As she was making her tea, she reached into her bag and pulled out her homework planner to mark the days off. March 7th…Ron was 18 and he never mentioned anything! Her inner turmoil be damned. She pulled out two chocolate biscuits she was saving, and lit a bluebell flame over one.

She walked back out of the tent to find the sun getting ready to come up. Ron was standing against a nearby tree, focused on nothing but whatever was in his head.

Hermione decided to cast her bitterness aside, albeit momentarily, and began to hum a very quiet version of 'Happy Birthday'. Ron almost jumped out of his skin, but when he saw her, a shy grin spread across his face.

"Why didn't you say anything?" She asked, levitating a biscuit toward him, avoiding his ling fingers as they grasped the sweet treat.

"We've been so caught up in other things, I didn't want to be a distraction."

Hermione just nodded solemnly. Her birthday had since passed without a word.

"Kind of like you did in September? I didn't even realize until Chrstm…Well it took me a while."

"Touche, Ronald." Hermione said, swallowing a lump in her throat at the period of time he alluded to.

"Hermione, I…"

"No. Not now. I can't."

Ron was quiet for a spell, and then went to speak again with an even more apologetic tone. "Hermione, I need to…"

"Ron! I'm not ready! I can't."

"Damnit! You have to let me do this!"

"I don't have to do anything," she answered, trying to sound forceful, but failing as her voice quivered.

Ron dropped his teacup, grabbed her shoulders, and turned her to face him. Though he looked cross, his hands felt soft on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I'm more sorry than I've ever been. I'm ashamed that I deserted you. I'm ashamed I left Harry after I said no matter what that I wouldn't. I'm a coward. Nothing can change how awful I feel about what I did." He said, his own voice breaking up. Hermione tried to look away from him, to hide her own tears, which were forming in her eyes. He took his hand and turned her chin toward him, and she saw the horrible pain on his face.

"But I will spend forever making it up to you, even if nothing changes. It's all I can do," he whispered the last line, letting go of her shoulders and turning to leave.

"Ron!" she said as he walked away.

He turned his bright blue eyes at her, shining with tears he was desperately fighting.

"I promise…if that even means anything…I will never leave you. Never." He struggled to speak over a roughness in his throat. Hermione couldn't compose herself. She wanted to tell him it would be all right. She wanted to tell him he had forever, because she would never leave him either. She wanted to promise him so much. But she held it in. She needed to be strong, or she would never last.

"Eat your biscuit," she whispered. It was the only thing she could articulate. He smiled, his annoying ability to read her face working overtime. They both hastily wiped their faces before Ron took a bite of his treat. She sighed easily when he placed an arm around her shoulders.

The day went by quickly and soon they were nestled into a new hiding place. Hermione set about trying to read more about The Deathly Hallows in order to prove Harry wrong, but she kept glancing at Ron's back, bent over his wireless.

Ron's excited yell pulled her from her not so obvious pretend reading.

"I've got it! I've got it! Password was 'Albus'! Get in here, Harry!"

Hermione jumped off her chair and crouched down in between the boys. They all smelled like rain and dirt, but there was such an excitement in the air that it didn't matter. A person whose voice was vaguely familiar to her began to echo out.

"…apologize for our temporary absence form the airwaves, which was due to a number of house calls in our area by those charming Death Eaters."

"But that's Lee Jordan!" Hermione exclaimed. She was so excited to hear a familiar voice, she didn't realized how closely she had scooted toward Ron.

"I know!" beamed Ron. "Cool, eh?" He said. She marveled at the biggest smile she had seen in weeks.

"…now found ourselves another secure location," Lee was saying, "and I'm pleased to tell you that two of our regular contributors have joined me here this evening. Evening boys!"

"Hi."

"Evening, River"

" 'River', that's Lee," Ron explained. "They've all got code names, but you can usually tell,"

Hermione had to quiet his excited rambling so that she could hear the programme.

"But before we hear from Royal and Romulus," Lee went on, "let's take a moments to report those deaths that the _Wizarding Wireless Network News_ and _The Daily Prophet_ don't think important enough to mention. It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell."

Hermione looked around, scared to death. She had just heard his voice not long ago. How close were Death Eaters to finding them?

"A goblin by the name of Gornuk was also killed. It is believed that Muggle-born Dean Thomas and a second goblin, both believed to have been traveling with Tonks, Cresswell, and Gornuk, may have escaped. If Dean is listening, or if anyone has any knowledge of his whereabouts, his parents and sisters are desperate for news."

The radio show went on, with Hermione shushing Ron often, and Kingsley Shackelbolt's voice booming through the tent. There was defensive advice, news on the Muggle world's troubles, and even some opinions of how some of the more cowardly wizards were acting. Then, Hermione had to gasp as the 'Pals of Potter' segment started, and Hermione whispered "We know its Lupin!" to Ron to keep him from shouting again.

Remus Lupin began to speak of his assuredness that Harry was alive and well, which Hermione had to smile at, because at least those who cared knew he was okay. And then, Lee asked Remus a question that almost made Hermione sob in her already emotional state.

"And what would you say to Harry if you knew he was listening, Romulus?"

"I'd tell him we're all with him in spirit," said Lupin, then hesitated slightly. "And I'd tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right."

Hermione could feel her eyes welling up with emotion. She missed them all so much. Everything was so unsure, so shaky. And here their closest friends were, standing by Harry despite no news whatsoever. And yet, Hermione had to remind Harry he wasn't ALWAYS right, just nearly.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" said Ron in surprise at Harry and Hermione's silent communication. "Bill told me that Professor Lupin is living with Tonks again. And apparently she's getting pretty big too…"

Hermione marveled at the happy look glazing over his eyes. It almost looked like hope.

"…and our usual update on those friends of Harry Potter's who are suffering for their allegiance?" Lee was saying.

And Hermione listened with baited breath as tales of Hagrid's daring escape, Xeno Lovegood's imprisonment, and more encouragement to keep supporting Harry rang out throughout the quiet tent. Then, someone named Rodent was introduced, and no one could contain his or her excitement. They all cried out Fred's name in unison.

"No- is it George?"

"It's Fred, I think," said Ron, leaning in closer, as whichever twin it was said,

"I'm not being 'Rodent', no way, I told you I wanted to be Rapier!"

"Oh, all right then. 'Rapier', could you please give us your take on the various stories we've been hearing about the Chief Death Eater?"

And so Fred went on with the latest news of fact and myth about Voldemort himself. The show was witty, informative, and the most comforting thing Hermione had experienced in ages. Lee's voice was signing off.

"Listeners, that brings us to the end of another _Potterwatch_. We don't know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials. The next password will be 'Mad-eye.' Keep each other safe: Keep faith. Good Night."

Hermione felt deep, sweeping relief knowing everyone she loved was okay for another day. That is, until she and Harry got into it about the Elder Wand yet again. Then, every little bit of comfort faded away as Harry said his name. Voldemort.

"The name's Taboo," Ron bellowed, leaping to his feet as a loud crack sounded outside the tent.

Panic overtook her, and her senses numbed. She could only hear the beating of her own heart in that moment. There were angry voices, but she couldn't tell what they were saying. One look at Ron said it all.

Ron grabbed her hand and she gathered the strength to curse Harry into disguise before they were ripped from the tent. She fought as hard as she could, but their strong hands were too much.

She heard Ron shout, and then she heard his face get hit hard. Her senses came back.

"No! Leave him alone! Leave him alone!"

"Your boyfriend's going to have worse that that done to him if he's on my list," said the rough voice. "Delicious girl…What a treat…I do enjoy the softness of skin," he whispered, running a hand down her face. He smelled of blood, a cold metallic smell that made her want to vomit. She cried out as Ron and Harry were pushed to the ground and the men went into the tent.

She felt herself press up against a tall figure, and heard a familiar voice whisper her name. Dean Thomas was standing with his back to hers. She didn't have time to find her words, when she heard Harry identify himself as Dudley.

Ron tried to call himself Stan Shunpike, and Hermione's stomach lurched as she heard another hit meet his face. He finally used Barny Weasley as his disguise.

Soon, the offending man was facing her again, asking for her name. Thinking fast, she answered the first name that came into her head.

"Penelope Clearwater," said Hermione. She was terrified, but kept her voice firm. The buzzing in her head continued, until she felt Harry and Ron press up against either side of her. They could only sit, and lie, as the men searched their tent. Then, they found the sword. Hermione was faint with fear when she heard her name.

"'Ermione Granger," Scabior was saying, "the Mudblood who is known to be traveling with 'Arry Potter."

Hermione's mouth went dry. She grabbed for a hand behind her back. She had no idea who's she was holding, she just needed the strength to go on. He was talking to her again; she tried to answer the Death Eater.

"It isn't! It isn't me!" She cried, but her voice squeaked and gave her away. She hated herself for giving him away. Now they knew it was Harry, and the Death Eaters slowly put the pieces together.

Too soon, they had decided to take them to where Voldemort was headquartered.

_I live here on my knees _

_As I try to make you see _

_That you're everything I think I need_

_Here on the ground.  
But you're neither friend nor foe _

_Though I can't seem to let you go.  
The one thing that I still know _

_Is that you're keeping me down_

Hermione panicked when Draco Malfoy was forced to identify their faces, but he turned to shrug it off. She breathed easier, knowing Bellatrix would never summon Voldemort unless she knew for sure who they were holding.

The seconds seemed to pass like agonizing hours as they argued over their identity. Narcissa had picked them all out, and was convinced they had 'Potter', but Bellatrix had noticed their sword, and wouldn't let anyone summon Voldemort yet. More infighting occurred before Bellatrix had overpowered them all and made up her mind.

Narcissa Malfoy had commanded them all be taken into the cellar, and Hermione was relieved to be leaving that room so that she could gather her thoughts.

"Wait," Said Bellatrix sharply. "All except…except for the Mudblood."

"No!" Shouted Ron. "You can have me, keep me!"

As Ron begged for them to keep him, she struggled to say no, to beg for his and Harry's safety. But they were taken away, and all of those malevolent faces stared back at her. She tried to keep Ron's eyes in her mind. He was close, and he was safe.

The pain ripped through her, and Hermione wished for death. She couldn't go on through this pain. She was hoping she'd stop breathing, that she would choke on her own pain and die, ending this horrifying feeling.

Then, she heard Ron calling from somewhere far off. He was screaming desperately for her. Despite all that had transpired, Hermione knew beyond logic that they needed each other, and she had to be strong.

_Set me free, leave me be. _

_I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.  
Here I am and I stand so tall, _

_just the way I'm supposed to be.  
But you're on to me and all over me._


	5. Himerus and Eros

**Title: Potterwatch  
Chapter: Himerus and Eros  
Author: EruditeFics  
Rating: Super Duper NC-17  
Word Count: around 4000  
Warnings: DH Spoilers ahead. Smutiness abounds.**  
**Notes: This could be considered a DH missing moment, though we were never even privy to this. However, here's how I think it happened. Fred and George on the night they find out Ron has been spotted and they all must hide. Lyrics by The Spill Canvas. **

Chapter 4: Himerus and Eros 

George breathed a sigh of relief as he and Fred made their way to the Apparitionpoint. They had finally managed to get '_Potterwatch'_on the air without a hitch. The rain hit his head hard, but it felt good to get outside. They had been hiding or at least laying low ever since the radio show was tossed. They were already marked men, and now every eye seemed pointed toward them. For the sake of the family, Fred and George toned it down.

George opened up his arms, lifted his head, and let the rain soak his shirt. Fred stood beside him, and taking his cue, began to splash in the puddles that had gathered on the vast lawn. They laughed, remembering a time when this sort of behavior was a part of childhood and not a bittersweet indulgence.

Fred took George's hand. It wasn't odd for such open affection in private, as both recognized they were practically the same person. They Apparated back to their flat once they were in the clear. Upon arrival, an owl was already waiting for them. The bird looked official and highly important.

Fred took the letter and read it quickly.

"Kingsley got a report on Thomas already. One of his informers said he was found and taken to Malfoy Manor," Fred said, his voice very serious.

"Bloody hell! Well, we can at least tell his family he's alive."

"We can't. We have to lay low, remember?" Fred said, making a pointed glance at George.

George knew what that look meant. Fred had tried desperately to figure out what happened between his brother and Angelina. Fred knew enough to know they had something, but George remained tight-lipped. It pained him to keep it from Fred, but he didn't want to bring that heartbreak out in the open.

"I know. We need her back. She is the only one who's even remotely safe walking into a Muggle neighborhood. You can call her," George said, even as the apprehension rose in his chest.

"Bollocks! Get over yourself, wanker. I would have called her anyways!" Fred said, punching him in the side of his arm.

"Oi! I'm not the one boning every bird I meet like I have a gold-dipped knob!"

"Katie Bell is not 'every bird.' She's a big-titted goddess who's mad in the sack. I keep going back for more," Fred said, a far off look on his face.

"Awwwwww. Is ickle Fweddie in lurve?"

"No more so than you."

At those words, their smiles faded and their eyes met. Fred knew, as did George, that his feelings for Angelina were obvious to his twin. George began to busy himself with their new photograph messengers, avoiding Fred, and re-reading in his mind the letter she left.

_George,_

_I'm sorry to leave like this. I don't know what came over me last night, but this cannot go on. Not now. Not in the middle of a war. I can't risk losing you when I need you by my side the most. I need to know you'll always be there. And what if we fall in love? What if we fall in love and one of us is taken or killed? Where are we then?_

_I don't even know if I'm making sense. I just can't risk the heartbreak. I have to stay strong, even if that means staying away from you. I need to be strong now, or else I risk losing everything._

_-Angie_

It was the 'what if we fall in love' that tore George to shreds. She didn't feel for him the way he felt. It was easy for her to leave.

"I've got to call her." Fred whispered, ripping George from his thoughts.

"She doesn't love me back. She left."

There was another long silence. Fred grasped George's shoulder for a second before going into their kitchen to use their kitchen to use their magic-powered Muggle phone. Lee had outdone himself in setting this up, and making it as untraceable as their radio signal. When all this died down, the Burrow would get one too.

George tried not to think of what it would be like to see her again, after two months of nothing. He tried not to picture her graceful neck as her head tilted back, screaming his name. He banished thoughts of her warm skin pushed against him. He tried to forget her laugh, her light, her fiery demeanor, but all his attempts failed when he heard her shout a greeting from the front door. He was hers, even if she didn't want him.

_You're captivating while evading  
All the questions I have for you like,  
"What exactly makes you tick?"  
When the guilt sets in tell me  
What are we going to do?_

"What's wrong? Is everyone okay? Where's George?" Angelina said, rushing past Fred. She looked relieved to see George standing there.

"Everything is okay right now, Gi Gi. We just need you to do one more house visit. It's very important," Fred said, putting an arm around her.

"Of course. Whatever you guys need," Angelina said, straightening her back and holding her head up, effectively avoiding George's gaze.

"If you do this, you may be in danger," George said, drawing her attention to him.

"As opposed to the safety we're all enjoying now?" She laughed, turning her beautiful brown eyes on him.

"Har har. You're hilarious, Johnson, but let's get to it," Fred started. He handed her the address and a small duffle bag.

"Kingsley told us that there are already Death Eaters surrounding Dean's family home. We have no idea why there's the sudden interest in Thomas, but it means that you need to be completely incognito. Go on and change, let's see your costume," Fred explained, taking a seat next to George.

"If this is crotch-less, or contains pasties, I will throttle you," Angelina said, looking sideways at the boys.

"Well first, blame Lee. He put it together. Our goal is to get you OUT of this flat, not for George to lock you in his room!" Fred said dryly.

George dropped the box he was going through, and Angelina giggled nervously. After she left, Fred would get it. George tried not to stare at the dignified blush on Angelina's cheeks as she walked away.

_Your tongue is wet with a top secret passion  
I hope I am the cause of it  
I'll navigate this unsturdy vessel  
Filled with a soft sea of pillows and blankets_

Angelina stepped out of the guestroom, and George had to stifle a laugh. She was wearing a thick, puffy winter coat in the maroon and teal of the West Ham football team that Dean always donned his bunk with. She wore a maroon and teal skirt, hideous matching socks, and pompoms in her pigtailed hair.

"Remind me to murder Lee," Angelina grumbled, smirking slightly. George had to try not to stare at her full lips when they curved into a gorgeous smile.

"Kill Lee," Fred piped up, patting her back and walking out of the room. The noise of distraction Fred offered was gone, and now George was left facing the one woman he wanted and couldn't have.

"So what's the deal with this get up?" she asked, stretching her leg up on the arm of the couch to pull up her stockings. George allowed his eyes to travel up her long, shapely legs, toned and athletic like the rest of her. What little control George was exercising flew out of the window.

"What in the hell makes you think that we … this," he said, gesturing between the two of them, "couldn't survive the trials of war?"

She lowered her leg, sighed, and looked at him with very big, sad eyes. He summoned his courage and walked toward her.

"George," she whispered, trying to find her voice. "We're all on the run. We're all on the brink of this enormous explosion. Our world is being torn apart."

"Then hold on tighter," he said, grabbing her shoulders.

_And I fight the urge to explore  
The vastness of your curves I adore  
You know I, I hate you  
No, I hate you more  
You know I, I love you  
No, I love you more_

"Ahh yes," said Fred, carrying a long piece of parchment. "Here is the address. Lee says that if you pretend to be a fundraiser for a West Ham school group, it might clue Mrs. Thomas to let you in. Though you might want to throw in a wink for good measure," he winked at her, obviously trying to break the tension. Angelina nodded and activated the Portkey, a West Ham button, which would take her to just outside of Dean's neighborhood.

"Be careful, Angie. Come back," George whispered, holding her tightly to him.

He felt her hot breath on his neck and her arms as they moved down his back. Then, she touched her Portkey and was gone.

But before George could even open his mouth, Kingsley's large lynx patronus invaded their flat.

"We know why Thomas is being watched, and we think his family is now in danger…you too. Please Apparate to my cottage in Cornwall. No one knows I own it. An owl is bringing the coordinates. Get out now! I'll get the Thomas family."

As the great cat disappeared, a Scops owl dropped Fred and George the coordinates. Fred gave George a frightened look as they Apparated away.

The weather in Cornwall was much warmer; a fine mist rose off the ocean and smattered George's face with salty drops of water. The sun seemed much more pronounced than in London. At the crest of a rocky hill sat a sunny yellow cottage with a small white fence. Fred and George laughed simultaneously at the image of Kingsley with his big bald head covered in a flowered hat and gardening that popped into their minds. They trudged up the hill to search for the rest of their fellow fugitives.

A delicate sniffle could be heard over the wind and crashing waves of the ocean behind them. Fred and George opened the front door, their wands drawn, without knocking. At a table in the cozy foyer sat two identical little girls in pink dresses with braided hair. They were crying quietly and consoling one another. They had the same narrowed eyes as Dean.

"Well hullo, loves. I'm George. I see you guys are also enjoying the glories of twindom," He smiled. He could tell they were frightened, so he and Fred had silently decided not to barrage them with questions.

"And I'm Fred. Lovely to meet you," Fred said, as he and George stuck out their hands. The tearful girls took them and shook them lightly.

"I'm Desiree and this is Dania," said the one on the left.

"Lovely," said George, taking a seat at the table and sharing an uneasy look with Fred.

To George's relief, they heard another 'pop', and soon Mr. and Mrs. Thomas arrived, dropping a Portkey.

"Sorry we're late, girls. There were a few bumps," said Mr. Thomas as the girls flew into their parents' arms.

"Angelina and Mr. Shackelbolt are, ummm, cleaning things up," Mrs. Thomas added, looking very worried.

George leapt up from the table to leave … to find Angie … to do anything but wait. He ran out the door and down the hill.

"Fucking Christ, George, stop!" Fred yelled, trailing after him.

George stopped abruptly and turned around. Fred had to slam into him just to stop.

"You saw the look on Mrs. Thomas' face! Angie and Kingsley are fighting. I will not leave her hanging when I know I can help!"

"I know, and I'll go with you, but I think we need to take a few seconds and clear our heads so we don't splinch. You could have busted your balls running like a bat shit insane person down this hill."

George simply nodded, sat on a rock, and put his head in his hands. The sun was starting to hide behind the sea, giving everything an orange hue.

"I just don't want to lose her. I can't help but feel she is just putting on a front, and that we belong together. I don't mean to sound like such a wanker, but it feels like I'm meant to be with her."

_Yes, it's true  
You've brainwashed me and now I'm more confused  
I still somehow hope I end up with you  
Yes, it's true  
I romanticize every single thing I do  
Especially when it comes to you_

"You do sound like a wanker, but not a lonely one. When all this shit is over, I'm going to bury myself in Katie's chest and never leave."

"Thanks for that lovely image. Now whenever I look at her, I'll see your red head popping out of her cleavage."

"Naturally."

"But that's bollocks!"

"No, they're tits. T-I-T…"

"No! I mean waiting until this is all finished. Why? Why not now, while we're all still real and alive?"

Fred pondered the question, and before he could answer, Angie and Kingsley had appeared by Portkey, much worse for the wear. As Kingsley hobbled up to his cottage, Fred and George ran to Angelina, trying to help her up and get her inside.

She looked like she had fought hard. Her braids were hanging freely around her head, and were tangled together in places. There were burn marks across her face and bare arms, along with various bruises. The socks that had caused so many amorous thoughts for George were now torn, and huge bleeding gashes ran across her skin.

"Someone really loves to 'Reducto' human flesh," she groaned, trying to stand, but her cries of pain made it clear that Fred and George would be carrying her.

"Angie, I'm going to conjure a stretcher. We need to levitate you in, since your legs are too bad," said George.

She nodded, as George conjured a stretcher and Fred bent down to gently grip her legs, giving George a nod when he was ready. George wrapped his arms around her waist while Fred held her legs up slightly to prevent excessive bleeding.

Once they got Angelina settled on the couch, Kingsley began the necessary healing spells, but all too soon, yet another urgent message pulled him away. He tossed George the essence of dittany as a Patronus began to whisper in his ear.

Angelina let out a whimper and laid her head back on the pillow.

Mrs. Thomas appeared with a basin of warm water, and began to gently wipe away what she could from Angelina's wounds. George could tell she was holding back, as her jaw was clenched and tears had begun welling up in her eyes. George took her hand and kissed it, trying to soothe her. Luckily, her wounds were cleaned quickly, and the dittany applied liberally. She didn't let go of his hand again until Kingsley reentered the room.

"We know now why there was so much interest in Dean," Kingsley started, trying to retain his characteristic cool and calm demeanor as the Thomas family clung to each other with anxiety. "Dean was taken in with Harry, Ron, and Hermione."

The floor fell out from under George and he felt his legs falter. A soft hand pulled him down, bringing him to sit on the edge of the sofa as Fred fell to the floor. The enemy had taken Ron. Little Ron was fighting for his life, and was without his brothers when he needed them most.

Kingsley broke the breathless tension, his voice so resounding in the silence that it made the young girls jump.

"We only know where they were taken, from the mouths of some spies near Malfoy Manor. We can't get anyone inside."

Fred and George got up simultaneously, wands drawn, and said as one, "We're going to the Burrow."

Angelina fished her wand out of the waist of her torn skirt and stood with difficulty beside George, taking his hand again.

"You are both adults and I shan't stop you, but please consider something: We have no idea where every member of your family is, or even if the Burrow is safe. You would do your family much more of a service to stay in tact until we have a course of action."

"Where is Malfoy Manor?" asked Fred, sounding only slightly placated. Kingsley turned wide eyes on him and simply shook his head sternly.

"You motherfucker!" yelled George, placing a wand under Kingsley's chin as Fred disarmed him. "You better tell us. We need to go!"

But as George dug his wand into the soft flesh of Kingsley's neck, he felt Angelina press up against him. As a blue heron Patronus descended from the ceiling, George let her lower his arm.

"We are all safe," said the shining bird with Bill's voice. "Harry and his lot managed to escape. They are with me at Shell Cottage. Dean and Luna Lovegood are too. Mum and Ginny have been relocated to Auntie Muriel's, and they want to see you as soon as you can get here. But please, wait until morning to make sure the coast is clear. Please, stay safe, wherever you are. I have a feeling we will be seeing you very soon."

The glowing bird disappeared, and a choked sob escaped Mrs. Thomas' lips. Her husband and daughters guided her into a bedroom down the hall, seeking to enjoy their relief together.

Fred and George looked back at Kingsley fearfully, and returned his wand. They mumbled hasty apologies as they did.

"As I'm familiar with the Weasley temper, having known your father when we were both chasing after the same girl, I'll let it go. I can sympathize with you. But just remember, you owe me," he said. "Now, I must see to Hestia. We all have someone to worry over. Take turns sitting outside and keeping watch. I'll return with your father in the morning to take you to your mother and sister." And with that, he poised his wand and Apparated away.

"Mind if I sleep first? Feeling like an arse takes a lot out of me," Fred said. George nodded and he went off to the other bedroom.

"Actually, I'll take the first watch. I've still got some adrenaline to work off," Angelina said, looking at him from the corner of her eye as she walked out.

George just nodded again, drained and overwhelmed, and went to sleep next to Fred.

A few hours later, George was already wide-awake, his fears of reality having finally won out over his need for sleep. He lay still and listened to Fred's heavy breathing, trying to imagine how Ron had yet again managed to elude death. Suddenly, he heard a soft humming come from outside of his window.

George walked over to the white-paned window and opened it enough to lean his upper body out and feel the chilled night air whip across his bare chest. There was a rustling of movement to his left, and the humming got louder. He shrank back behind the gingham drapes with his wand drawn, aptly trained to be suspicious of anything, even in a cheesy yellow cottage in Cornwall.

Just then, Angelina strolled by, tossing a Quaffle in the air and humming to herself in the dark early morning. She looked beautiful to him, pausing to look around for possible danger before elegantly throwing the Quaffle into the air and catching it behind her back, a small smile on her face. George thought back to his conversation with Fred on the hill, to the fear that gripped him at the thought of Ron being in danger, and even to the night he and Angelina made love. It all seemed intertwined in fate, like the world was moving in a significant way, pulling those who need each other closer, and making them stronger.

_Fuck it,_ thought George, as he threw on a shirt and walked out the front door of the cottage; Angelina running into him as he quietly shut the door.

_I've sunken in the quicksands of love  
And I don't want you to rescue me_

_Screw what my supposed friends think  
It's obvious they reek of jealousy_

"George…" Angelina said. But before she could speak anymore, he quieted her questions with his lips. He kissed her with every thought in his head, every will in his heart, and all the affection he could muster. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and let his tongue run along her full lips, hoping she would take this further.

Her tongue darted into his mouth as a small moan echoed in the back of her throat. He had to hold back a victorious smile as he got her to relent so quickly. As their fervor and breathing quickened, George moved her back until she was pressed against the yellow wooden siding of the house. He wasted no time in showing her how much he wanted her, and let the erection pressing through his jeans meet her center. He was silently grateful for the benefits of such a tall woman.

He wasted no time in shooting his hands up the back of her shirt, letting his icy fingertips press against the warm skin of her back. She groaned, and her back arched, pressing her breasts into his chest. He pulled her more tightly to him, trying to memorize the generous curve of her arse as his free hand found it's way up her skirt. He had to stifle a loud groan when she flung a leg around his waist, letting his erection press directly into her. After all, they were outside of a house full of sleeping and paranoid people.

He took off her maroon and teal sweater, slipping it over her shoulders and down her back very slowly. Beneath it laid a black lace bra that left little to his already wild imagination. Her smooth, dark skin punctuated by graceful curves and tight muscles made George decide he was currently holding the most beautiful woman in the world. The question remained: Was this going to be just like last time, or was she finally giving in to what he was positive she felt for him?

_I hope to God I mean a little more_

_Than the sounds that escape your tired 4 A.M. lips.  
And oh-how I wish I meant a little more _

_Than a symphony of heavy breathing _

_And the friction of hips_

"Angie?" George whispered, kissing down her neck and across her clavicle.

"Mmm?"

"Angie, love, look at me."

She opened her eyes, and they seemed to be reflecting the haunting moonlight draining through the mist of the clouds. She had something unreadable dwelling on her face, and George was unsure if he was doing the right thing by stopping her.

"Don't you think there's more to survival than just closing yourself off?" he asked gently, letting his hands trail down her ribs and over her torso.

"I know what you're getting at, George, and you can't expect me to just let go and love you like we're not about to get in the fight of our lives. Today proves that. Ron could have been killed…"

"Don't you make this about my family," he whispered urgently, being a little more forceful than he had intended. She pushed him away.

"What the fuck do you want from me, Weasley? Do you want me to fall at your feet and proclaim that I see those gorgeous blue eyes every time I close mine? Do you want me to forget about my family, my hopes, my damned wanted ass and flit around the country shagging in all the unusual places? Do you want me to tell you that on that night we spent in your flat, I was happier than I can ever remember being?" she whispered, angry and breathless. Her fists were clenched and her eyes looked fierce. She burned, and George had to fight from taking hold of her again and claiming her as his own.

"No."

"Then what is it? I can't just let it all go. I have to fight. I have to be strong."

"I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you don't want this. Then, I'll turn my back and forget we ever happened. But if you can't do that, I will be damned if I will let some sodding Dark Lord govern what I do." George took his chances, walked up to her, and put a finger under her chin so that her eyes met his.

"I don't want you to forget. I don't want you to walk away," she said, her eyes glassing over. She kissed him then, and George felt weightless, he felt alive. He wrapped his arms around her, under her arms, and she jumped on him, her legs winding around his thin waist. She was surprisingly heavy and they both knew that George cold never hold her in this position. She quickly conjured a pile of cushions right there on the dewy grass, laughing as they tumbled into them.

"Oh Angie. I think you've missed something," he said, chuckling.

"And what might that be, oh all-knowing pompous ass."

"Let the master demonstrate." George stood gallantly, and conjured a simple, sheer, overhanging tent. Then, with an unnecessary flourish of his wand, he made the entire thing invisible, thus, making them undetectable. "And, of course, a silencer, just in case."

Angelina stood up and pulled him to her, their bodies both warming in the shelter from the wind. He let her hands travel up and down his back before pulling his shirt over his head. He took her pulling back from himas a way to take control of the situation, pulling down the straps of her bra and kissing her shoulders carefully.

"George…George please…" Angelina whimpered, her nails digging in his back. He obliged, laying her gently on the soft cushions. She removed her bra, and he removed his remaining clothing, never taking his eyes off of her wonderful breasts. The moment she was topless, he went in with full fury, biting and sucking her nipples delicately and with relish. He let his hands move down beneath her skirt, moved her panties to the side, and ran his finger slowly along her folds, feeling for the small nub of nerves he knew all too well.

She moaned deeply as he gently stroked her, inserting two fingers as he did. He felt how hot and wet she was, and wanted so badly to be inside her, but there was one thing he wanted even more.

"I want to taste you, love," he whispered, kissing her and letting his tongue do in her mouth what he wished to do along her center as he tugged at the edge of her panties.

"Mmmm. I want to taste you too," she said, grasping his erection in her small hands.

And before George knew what was happening, she was straddling his shoulders, her warm mouth traveling down his shaft. George sent an eager tongue out and ran it over her lips, releasing a shudder from both of them. He wanted to scream how wonderful she was, how amazing this was, how good she made him feel, but they both simply kept relishing the taste of one another. Soon, all too soon, George felt an impending climax, and decided he needed to stop. She pouted only for a second before he kissed her hungrily, letting her juices mix in with the flavor of his skin.

George pushed her on to her back and hovered above her. Angelina had always been a strong, hard woman, and he wouldn't change a thing. However, on this night, from this angle, she was soft and more like an angel than a real person. He couldn't hold himself back from saying everything that was in his head.

"Angie. I love you. I've loved you since long before I should have. I don't care about the war. I'm more afraid of not ever getting the chance to be with you than I fear losing you."

She responded with small tears and a tender kiss. He pressed into her, and all the sound seemed to leave his ears. All he could hear was her breathing. All he could feel were her walls as they clenched and unclenched around him. He came in waves, mirroring the sea at the bottom of the hill as he bucked into her. She cried his name and came with him, strong and delicate at the same time.

"I love you too," she whispered, and fell asleep right there in the invisible shelter.

George was too elated to sleep, and decided to keep watch until the others woke up. He left the tent, and it vanished…but he could still feel her near. And even if he had to leave in a few hours, even if war kept them apart, he could leave knowing she was always there with him.


	6. All I Can Do

Percy clutched the photograph in his hand, shaking with fear. Fred's voice, this time coming from a very young picture of him, had just told him of the danger Ron and his friends were in. Now, they were all in danger. Percy had to hide, but his mistakes caused him to not know where he could go, or to whom he could turn. So doing what he could, he put powerful wards upon his flat, crouched against his door, and held his wand tightly while Hermes kept watch.

"You are a magnificent creature, Hermes, but it makes me loathe myself immensely to know you are my only friend. Now one of my family, who I've abandoned, is in danger and I am cowering in my flat," he finished, self-disgust rising in this throat.

_When you're on your own  
When you're at a fork in the road  
You don't know which way to go  
There's too many signs and arrows_

The large owl blinked his yellow eyes at Percy, as if acknowledging he was right. Suddenly, he tapped on the window and let out a very soft 'hoot'. Someone was approaching.

He cast a 'revelio' on his thick Victorian door, and his breath stopped in his chest. Audrey was standing there, looking uncertain, wild-eyed, and a little less put together than their last meeting. But Percy knew she couldn't be real, because she left that night in fear, and hadn't spoken to him in months. She had to be a very dirty trick by a very clever Death Eater.

"Stop right there. Do not move," he said angrily through the door. She froze on the spot and turned wide eyes toward the disembodied sound.

"Percy? It's Audrey. I need to talk to you," she yelled to no one, wringing her hands in desperation.

"I know you have Ron, and I won't go without a fight," he exclaimed, trying to keep his wits about him.

"What on earth are you talking about?" she asked, looking shiftily around her. She seemed genuinely confused and Percy's will foundered.

"Who was playing at the bistro the night we danced?" he asked, his eyes never leaving her pale face.

"Cole Porter," she said with a little more confidence, and a small smile on her face. "It's important that you forget yourself soon and let me in," she said, looking to her left and panicking.

Percy threw caution to the wind, opened the door, and grabbed her hand. He pulled her in swiftly. Thinking quickly, he cast a spell making his door and home undetectable to anyone but the current occupants.

"You were followed, weren't you?"

"You weren't lying, were you?"

She nodded, he shook his head, and they simultaneously moved into an embrace. Percy, who was instantly warmed by her touch, never wanted to leave the fantasy of being so close to her.

"Men. Men in hoods, just like they were during the fire. They were outside your building. I had to hide and sneak in, but they must have heard. I heard footsteps on the stairs," she said, looking frantically at his door, shocked to see it wasn't there.

"Shhhh…_revelio_," he whispered, placing a hand over her lips, and trying not to get drawn into her soft delicate skin.

They moved closer to each other and watched tensely as two Death Eaters walked by, trying to find something. After only a few moments, they shook their heads and gave up. Percy let out an audible sigh of relief. He noticed he was gripping Audrey's hand and quickly dropped it.

"Why are you here?" he said, trying not to sound hurt or accusatory, but still trying to remain aloof. She swallowed slowly, gathering her thoughts and composure.

"You weren't lying. I realized that. Your eyes never once deviated from mine, and your gestures were natural and uncalculated. When I first reached this conclusion, I assumed you were just clever and devious, until I heard someone else say "Muggles and Wizards" while I was walking to the shop. And being who I am, I waffled another month before coming over and apologizing. I mean, how could you ever receive someone who all but ran away from you?" she finished, blushing and looking up at him with pleading eyes.

_You haven't laughed in a while  
When you can't even fake a smile  
When you feel ashamed  
The uniform don't make you brave_

Everything froze for that moment. Percy felt like a tragic fool. He had known this girl for what could only accumulate to a total of 48 hours, and yet he was completely weak when looking at her resolute gaze. She was so real and sincere, that everything he knew about decorum seemed to fly out the window. After all, what had decorum ever provided for Percy Weasley besides a terrible lonely existence? He kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger against her skin as her arms wound around his waist.

"I can understand why you reacted the way you did. You're too logical to believe something that quickly, and we certainly did move awfully fast for a first date," he said, running his hands up and down her arms. Percy craved contact like that so much; he became weak when she rested her head on his shoulders.

"We were victims of the night music. I promise you that you've not left my thoughts since I went running from that garden."

"Where do we go from here? You must have caught on that I'm involved in something big, and I can't in good conscience involve you in it," he said, pulling back to look her in the eye. "My family are all major players in the war, and now my brother has been found in the hands of the enemy. We have all been told to go into hiding and await news of him," Percy explained, worry and regret gripping him. Audrey, ever intuitive, seemed to sense the emotional gravity and took his hand in hers.

_All I can do is love you to pieces  
Give you a shoulder to cry when you need it  
When the day is long and the night is coming down on you_

"I'm no magician..."

"Witch…"

"Semantics. But I don't think you are safe here," she said, bringing his knuckles to her lips, as he reveled in her warm breath on his hands.

"You're right, but I have nowhere to go. Even if my family were to welcome me with open arms, they're already gone underground," he said, sitting on his sofa miserably.

"Well, if you've got a way to move undetected, I would suppose my parents' home is an excellent location to lie low. No one ever thinks of that neighborhood."

"If you're willing to trust me, I think I can get us there," he started. Percy mustered his courage, being pushed in the direction by tumultuous circumstances. He summoned a broom, and as it flew into his hand, he kissed her passionately. She felt amazing, like a perfect combination of rain and fire, waking Percy up in places that had lain dormant for many years. He pressed her against him, allowing a few more moments of bliss among uncertainty.

"Hold still," Percy said, pressing his wand to her head and casting a Disillusionment Charm over both of them and the broom. She gasped, obviously taken back by the sudden and deceptive emptiness of the room. "I warn you, I'm a poor flyer. That Weasley gene was never passed to me."

"If I die, I'll just kill you," she said, grabbing his hand. He grasped the broom, mounted it, and guided her in front of him. They hovered near the door to his small balcony.

"Hermes," Percy said, summoning the majestic bird. Audrey gasped again as the bird landed on his arm. "Go and fly, friend. Find a spot in an open wood somewhere. When you feel it is safe, come and find me. Keep yourself well."

The bird flew away and Percy took off in the opposite direction, clinging tightly to Audrey.

Time moved far too slowly as they flew over innocuous buildings covering the vast expanse of London. He wanted desperately to get on solid surface and await news on the safety of his family. The only thing keeping him from completely falling to pieces was the exquisite feeling of gripping Audrey to him. He commanded the broom down near the area she lived, pressing his nose into her short brown hair as she held onto him more tightly.

They landed on the rooftop of a fairly impressive townhouse. The cold winter air, still bitter, whipped around their heads.

"I've not been here since I was a little girl," whispered Audrey, the lights of the city reflecting in her dark eyes. Percy took her hand and reluctantly pulled her from the beautiful sight. They weren't safe, and had to take cover soon.

They climbed down the fire escape and Audrey opened her front door. They quietly removed their shoes and coats, and rushed upstairs as her parents sat in recliner chairs, unaware, watching pictures move across a screen. Percy wasn't too confused at the site. Although, he thought movies were only for theaters. They scurried up the wooden stairs as quietly as they could. Percy felt young again, which was an absurd thought for someone only 20 years old. He felt like he was sneaking around to steal kisses from his girl in some sort of fairytale from someone else's world. They ran into her bedroom and stifled laughter.

His light feeling left as quickly as it had come when he realized again why he had to hide. So much was working against him that Percy had to sit from the weight of it all. His brother was missing, his family was estranged, war was threatening to take everyone he loved, and he was falling for a woman who might as well be from a different world. Nothing looked bright. Audrey's cat seemed to sense his turmoil and leapt onto his lap, her purrs vibrating against his legs.

They sat in heavy silence, Audrey openly studying him as she sat at her desk. He observed her room and realized it was very similar to his. There were stacks of books, in front of shelves of books, and every surface was covered in documents…and books. There were also beautiful black and white photographs of random scenes along with a deep cherry desk near her window. Her bed hung with royal blue hangings, like something directly out of Ravenclaw's dormitory (something Percy could proudly admit he had seen). Audrey's entire room was organized in a chaotic but deliberate way.

"Well, since you're definitely here, we might as well make the most of it," she said, rising from her desk and settling next to him, petting Lucy on his lap.

"I have a nagging feeling that this will all be over soon. Ron's sudden appearance after months on the run makes me think this is all coming to a head," Percy said, avoiding her eyes so as to not show how afraid he was. "I'm going to fight…whenever it happens."

Audrey tried not to choke out a cry of surprise at his words as she moved closer to Percy. "Well, I can't fight. Hell, I don't even know what's going on. But I'll be there for you. I think I've expelled all doubt that either one of us is insane," she said, smiling warmly and touching his face. He met her eyes and calmed.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," he smirked. Despite all of the pressure and fear, Percy felt more like himself than he had in a long time. He leaned in and kissed her gently. Her soft lips coupled with her arms around him lit a fire within him, but he tried hard to suppress it, as decorum would dictate. He pulled away, suddenly struck by an idea as Kingsley Shackelbolt's voice rang in head.

"However, we continue to hear truly inspirational stories of wizards and witches risking their own safety to protect Muggle friends and neighbors…perhaps by casting a protective charm over any Muggle dwellings on your street…"

"I'm going to put up some protective spells. My family has passed these down for generations, so they should keep us all quite safe."

He leaned his head out of her bedroom window, letting the cool night air numb his cheeks, and cast the ancient wards with a few flicks of his wand. Percy felt more secure immediately. He came back and sat contentedly on her bed. Audrey took the initiative to sit between his legs with her back against him. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed.

"Why are you really estranged from your family?" Audrey asked, running her hand over his long fingers.

"Well, when this Dark force began to rise, my family immediately started participating in the resistance. However, I took the side of the government, which claimed the possibility of the Dark Lord rising again to be hogwash. Things just got worse from there," he said, mumbling the end of his sentence.

"Well, have you tried to apologize?"

"I'm trying. I keep in touch with my sister-in-law, and she's trying to get my eldest brother to speak to me. I should go back and grovel, but cowardice keeps me from doing so."

"How does your sister-in-law feel about your brother being kidnapped?"

"What do you mean? Bill is fine. Well, he should be, last time I checked."

"I thought he was Ron. How many brothers do you have?"

"I have five brothers and a sister."

"Bloody hell! Your poor mother!" she exclaimed, turning shocked eyes on him.

"She's happy. We're all very different, but it's always been a very loving home," he finished sadly.

"You know they'll welcome you back. Once this is all over, you'll be back where you belong," she said, showering kisses all over his face. Percy held back from saying what was dancing across his lips: 'I belong near you.'

"What's it like living in such a large family? I'm an only child," she said with a shrug.

"Oh we all have our quirks. Bill is the oldest. He's notoriously cool, and yet level-headed. A very good eldest if I do say so. That's why I reached out to him. He's got long hair, which I understand some girls fancy." At that, Audrey moved around the short curls on his head.

"And then there's Charlie. He's a dragon tamer…I find it impractical, but it makes him very brazen and bold. I came after him." He paused to sigh heavily.

"After that, we come to The Twins,"

"Wait! Ginger-haired twin boys?"

"…And everything that it implies. They are clever and mischievous, and when this is all over, I'll take you to their joke shop."

"They have a joke shop? How kitsch!" Audrey said. Percy was momentarily confused, but went on.

"And then there's Ron, the youngest boy. He's quiet and has a huge heart…" Percy couldn't talk anymore, as fear for Ron seemed to grip his vocal chords.

"So the only girl is also the youngest? That must have been hard."

"Not for Ginny. She's full of fire and power like Mum. I haven't really seen her grow up…but I'm sure she's powerful," Percy said, flashes of a slight little girl who used to trail after her brothers invading his mind.

Just then, Fleur's dove patronus appeared before their eyes, and Percy tensed in suspense.

"Ron ees 'ere. We are safe. Molly and Geeny are at Muriel's. I will keep in touch."

The elegant bird disappeared as suddenly as it appeared.

Percy couldn't hold his composure anymore, and felt a tear fall down his cheek. Audrey wiped it away gently, kissing him.

"When it's all over, you'll see them again."

_When you forget your name  
and the pleasure can't disguise your pain  
and you don't feel the same  
I won't forget the love you made_

Audrey woke in the night to the sound of heavy breathing, and it confused her momentarily. She regained her senses at the tuft of red hair pressed on his pillow on the floor. Percy, ever the gentleman, had spent the past few weeks in her home, sleeping on the floor, and now Audrey gazed at him carefully as light filtered through her dark curtains. He slept exactly how she would expect him to sleep: still, straight on his back, and his hands folded neatly across his chest. His lips were slightly parted, causing a whoosh of air to sound in the room, and Audrey had to resist waking him with a kiss. She didn't want to wake him, because for the past few days he had been so restless that he barely slept.

The weeks had been hard on Percy, which Audrey could discern despite the fact that he had stayed rather closed off following his breakdown on the first night. He busied himself with reading her books, growing quite fascinated by Muggle versions of witches, wizards, and vampires. She could hear him laugh out loud on occasion while reading her Anne Rice books. She wasn't offended, as she liked his wide grin. It showed a side of him that he tried so hard to hide.

After two weeks of books, television, and walks in the garden, Percy couldn't handle being so cooped up any longer. He had decided to wait only one more week before setting out to find his family, but the wait was driving him mad. Audrey could feel the tension in his shoulders every time they embraced.

"You know what? You need to stop moping around here. We need to get out. Can't you just disguise yourself?" she asked, pulling the spellbook he read from his hands. He was pale and drawn, and he needed heartier food and some fresh air. For her part, Audrey needed to be free of Percy's new and dreary personality. Every day he looked more defeated. He may not have been a particularly rugged or masculine person, but he used to carry himself with an air of control that made her weak in the knees.

"What's the point? I'm useless. I can't even help keep my family safe. I'm just languishing in this Muggle flat," he said, pouting like a child.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, it's unbecoming. Let's go out. Do some magic and change your hair and skin or something," she commanded. To further plead her case, she laid open one of his books she had been thumbing through ever since he summoned them. On the page he had marked were spells on how to temporarily change one's appearance. He looked up at her, a spark of knowledge in his eyes that she found irresistible.

"I'm such a fool!"

"I agree," she replied. Percy took a moment to playfully push her aside before kissing her softly on the lips.

"I never put much emphasis on charms. I found it to be folly…but this is a useful spell," he said. She started as he waved his wand over his hair and instantly sprouted shoulder-length blond hair. Audrey laughed; he looked absurd with his thin, long face jutting out from between curtains of golden blond locks. She got a sudden idea.

"Oh, would you do that to me? It would be amazing to govern my looks like that!"

Percy got a sullen look on his face, and traced a finger along her jaw line. She leaned into his touch, sighing heavily at the affection.

"I'm sorry, love. I am too taken with you the way you are, and I'm a selfish person." He kissed her with more passion than she had ever felt before. Something was slowly waking up inside of him, and she could feel it fall into her in waves. He pushed her back a little and cast another spell. Instantly, his freckles disappeared and his skin turned golden brown, his eyes green.

"I feel like I should say 'dude'."

"I think we should break up. You're not my type," she quipped. He mussed her hair, and then met her eyes with a question.

"Are we in a situation where breaking up is possible? Would you call this a serious relationship? I'm sorry for the question, but we never really indicated our intentions to each other. I've never done the whirlwind romance thing and find myself lacking understanding on the subject," he asked in earnest.

Audrey just laughed and kissed his unfamiliar lips. She had the intention of showing him in actions, but his appearance was too foreign to her. "You are the only man I've ever met that has made me so completely beside myself that I'll kiss him in any form. I think it's safe to say I'm devoted."

"As am I," he answered simply, his words were full of power, but the way he turned from her showed her that he was fearful of saying them. Those three words were enough to leave her happy and content for a long time to come. That is, if she didn't know what danger awaited her newfound love. He turned to look into the mirror above her desk.

"Well, no one can see Weasley through this," he said sadly, running his fingers through his hair.

They set out and spent the day walking through shops and along crowded streets. They enjoyed tapas for lunch and took in a play in the afternoon. Audrey loved how fresh and different everything seemed to Percy, how he seemed to take in new sites and sounds hungrily. Every time he marveled at a bit of technology, she wanted to grab him and kiss him, blond hair be damned.

They approached the cobbled street where both of their flats were, and Percy walked quickly toward a worn-down looking bar.

"Must we go here? I know of a nice pub around the corner."

But he just shook his head and walked in. He handed the elderly barman a coin and said, "Daily Prophet, please." He received a paper and they left as quickly as they came.

Before she could ask, Percy put a tanned hand over her lips and guided her to a private corner of a small park, hidden in the shadow of a tree against the setting afternoon sun. They sat there in the grass and Percy began to devour the information, hungrily curious, Audrey sat next to him and read over his shoulder. The moving pictures told her it was a publication of his world.

"Harry Potter: Undesirable Number One:

The Ministry asks for any information regarding this dangerous wizard."

"It's all lies, but at least my family's death isn't plastered across the front pages," he said, taking her hand and kissing it gently. Audrey heard a rustle in the trees, and looked up to find a familiar owl staring back at her, an envelope in his beak.

"Hullo, Hermes," Audrey said bravely, snapping Percy's attention upward. She decided to be brave and held her arm out. The beautiful bird landed on her softly. His beauty and wisdom took her breath away as he handed Percy his letter. Too shocked to speak, he just opened the letter and held it in front of them so she could read it as well. She was touched by his expression of trust.

_Humungous Bighead:_

_I saw this old bird hanging out by Aunt Muriel's. Can you feel it? It's coming. Long Hair said Spider Boy and his lot are off again. It's only a matter of time. When the time comes, find a wise old late bumblebee's estranged and goat-loving brother. I'll be seeing you._

_-The older one._

"It's from Fred."

"The older twin! I get it!"

They were both silent for a few moments before his hands moved up to her face, and he kissed her slowly. His lips felt no different despite his difference in appearance. So she returned his kiss hungrily, letting her tongue reach into his mouth and seek his out. He moaned and kissed her more fiercely, winding his fingers into her hair.

She didn't realize how pent up her desire for him had been until the heat pooled between her legs at a startling pace. He hadn't been avoiding contact with her, but he often clumsily excused himself just when things were getting interesting. She was a little hurt, but assumed going slow was part of his very traditional personality. But despite her understanding, being so near to him every night was taking its toll.

However, this night felt different. As they huddled close in the cold air, sitting on the dry winter grass, Percy's motions became fevered, his breathing quickened. It was like something was slowly waking inside of him with every hour that passed in the day.

He kissed her hard and with astounding fervor, breaking from her lips to bite lightly on her exposed neck, pushing her shirt down to reach more untouched skin. She couldn't hold back an excited groan when his gentle hands came up to cup her full breast. She kissed him with what she hoped was her encouragement to go further.

And he adhered to her silent pleas, pulling her on his lap as he leaned against the large tree. She could feel his erection through both of their jeans, and she ground her hips into him with enthusiasm. He whimpered, digging his hands into her soft flesh as he sent them up her skirt. He stopped breathing heavily and pressing his forehead to hers.

"You're so soft and amazing. How am I deserving?"

"Take me home and I'll show you."

He looked shocked at first, but as they hailed a taxi and kissed the ride home away, he became more comfortable and pliable under her hands. Soon, his looks were back to the red she had fallen so hard for.

They stumbled into her dark room, both tugging at each other's clothes in anticipation. She slid off his overcoat and he tugged her sweater over her head. She didn't want her lips to leave his for a second. She was so fearful that in a few days she would lose him, and possibly forever, that she wanted to make sure every part of him was firmly entrenched in her brain, as though he was a figure written in stone on her mind. She wanted to push him flat on her bed, but she backed away, fearful of going too fast for their first time and looking like a harlot.

However, when she let him take the lead, and he reached for the straps of her bra, she noticed his hands were shaking. This was unlike him; he usually tackled everything with confidence and concentration. He was biting his lip, and uncertain look in his eyes. He took a deep breath and bent down to kiss her now exposed breasts.

Any question that was in her mind quickly dissolved as his lips caressed her skin slowly. His actions became more fevered and wanton as he continued his ministrations. He felt to her like something about to explode in a burst of energy and feeling. The excitement was palpable.

Suddenly, as she lifted his starched oxford over his head, he stopped abruptly. He had a horrified look on his face and slowly backed away. Leaving her bra hanging off of her and making her feel so exposed. She quickly covered herself as he stammered. She had no idea why he pulled away, but her shame was quickly overtaking her.

"I'm…I'm sorry. Just give me a second to cover up here," she said, trying to maintain some dignity. He seemed to find himself again and walked over to her quickly.

"No, I'm sorry. I behaved like a cad. I didn't mean to objectify you like that. I don't know what came over me!"

"But I wanted you…I don't understand," she said, trying to get him to look down and meet her eyes.

He looked at her, and then his eyes drew back up over her head. She faltered, unsure of why he couldn't make eye contact. He was a very direct man, and now he seemed to be lost inside of himself.

"The thing is, I haven't lead a very normal life. I've been so caught up in my goals that the common practices of courtship eluded me."

Audrey laughed, a huge weight being taken off of her shoulders.

"Are you telling me you've never…"

"I've been in many situations, but never…ummm…THE situation."

"Do you want me?" she asked. The question had been hanging over her head like a cloud.

"More than I've ever wanted anything, including a high ranking job at the Ministry," he said, smiling shyly and meeting her eyes.

Her heart leapt and she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him with relief. She had put a lot of herself on the line, and acted in very uncharacteristic ways for this man. She was glad that he felt the same about her that she did about him.

By the time they had disrobed, his erection was throbbing for her, pressing hard against her stomach as he lay over her in the bed. He was kissing her neck, chest, and stomach, blissfully moving at a very slow pace. She reached down and wrapped her hands around him, not surprised that this part of him was long as well, and she was happy to learn he had a good thickness. He gasped, instantly clenching the sheets when she began to move her hand and stroke him.

"Do you like that?" she whispered, reveling in how the simplest sexual act seemed to cause him to lose control.

"Yes. Oh god, Audrey!"

He was thrusting into her hand, gasping and whimpering. She looked at his face, his eyes closed, horn-rimmed glasses still on his head, and biting his lip. She thought it was the sexiest sight she has ever seen. She could also feel that he was getting close. She wasn't hurt or offended by the quickness, on the contrary, she enjoyed how even this was new to him.

He came in hot spurts on her hand, and she continued until at last he collapsed next to her. Panting, he began to whisper.

"Now it's my turn. I may be inexperienced, but I do love learning new things," he said, kissing down her neck and letting his hands move over her breasts again. Her body was naked and expectant before him, and very soon, his fingers were exploring her center.

"Mmmmm, so wet. Is that for me?"

"Why Mr. Weasley, I thought you'd never done this before."

"I learn fast," he said, dipping two fingers into her and causing her to cry out. She had been throbbing with desire for so long, that the slightest gesture sent her almost into orgasm. She took his hand and guided him up to her clit, showing him how she wanted it, and he complied. Soon she was shaking and crying out his name as he kissed her, causing her body to begin convulsing.

"That was…" he said, looking thoroughly stunned and blown away.

"That was nothing compared to…" she never finished her sentence, as he moved on top of her and covered her mouth with his. She could feel him getting hard again against her, and he looked a little shocked at its quickness too.

"You are so sexy, and I…wow. Touching you, feeling you like that, I never realized how erotic this whole experience was."

Audrey tried her best to stifle her laughter. "Of course this experience is erotic, Percy Weasley, it's sex." She enjoyed his mischievous grin and his happy kiss as 'punishment' for her inopportune sarcasm.

He hovered over her entrance, looking at her questioningly. She put her hand over his cock and guided him in. He gasped at the feeling, and she gasped at being filled for the first time in a very long time.

He was thrusting in her carefully, obviously trying hard not to quicken his pace. She looked at him, and felt a throb of desire within her when she saw him biting his lip, his face in pure ecstasy. He had finally let go, and was letting himself feel. She reached her arms out to brush her fingers down his flat, thin stomach as he let out another shuddering moan.

"You feel incredible, Audrey. So tight, so hot…I just…" he whispered, his breathing labored.

"Don't hold back, love. Just let go," she called back, encouraging him to embrace this part of him he had never felt before. He grunted deeply within his throat and put his hands on her face, kissing her hard.

"You are the embodiment of perfection."

He lasted much longer this time, as they moved together slowly, savoring every stroke, every touch. He came whispering her name once again, his face buried in her neck and her hands twisted in his hair, messy from their lovemaking.

"I'm in love with you," he said, seemingly shocked to hear it coming out of his mouth.

"I've been in love with you since that first dance," she answered, falling into a comfortable sleep with her head on his chest.

In the wee hours of the morning, the dove came again, and her heart sank.

"I'll come back for you, but you have to stay here, and stay safe. I love you," he said, disappearing before the first tear even rolled down her face. She felt powerless, but loved. She would wait for him. If he never came, she would grieve for him. She dreaded both.

_All I can do is love you to pieces  
Give you a shoulder to cry when you need it  
When the day is long and the night is coming down on you_

_All I can do_

_It's all that I can do._


	7. So Much

**AN: Hey guys! This is the last chapter before the epilogue. However, this story will have a second part to it, so keep your eyes out! Please review, so I know it's a good idea to keep going. As always, by two betas Tom and Kim are awesome.**

_The following takes place during chapters 23 and 24 of Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling._

**Chapter 6: "So Much" **

"No!"

The word echoed in Ron Weasley's mind. It moved through his veins like a razorblade, cutting him with every agonizing thought. He tried to yell, to let his anguish out, but he was frozen, unable to commit to the simplest motion. The pain was exhaustive. Her pain was his, and being separated by a wall of dark rock only served to drive Ron further into a pit. He felt as though he was ceasing to exist with each of her screams.

Everything else happened in a blur. Dobby arrived, though Ron didn't know how. The only thing going through Ron's mind was her. The screaming had stopped, which was even more disconcerting. He had no guarantee that she was still alive, and he wanted to vomit. He told the elf where to take everyone. He hoped that somehow he could take Hermione away from this … hopefully alive and well.

Scabbers – no, Wormtail – was on his way down. The door opened, which gave him hope of seeing Hermione again, and Ron's arms and legs burned to burst forth … to touch her … to feel that she was indeed still there, still alive, still with him in some way. He was desperate, and he would stop at nothing. When Harry suggested a fight, Ron almost leapt out of his skin in anticipation of beating any one of the fuckers that had hurt her. In what seemed like a flash to Ron's numbed mind, Wormtail was dying. Then he heard her scream, and nothing else mattered.

Ron moved beside Harry up the stairs. There she was. She wasn't moving. There was chatter amongst the Death Eaters, and it was probably important, but Ron was zeroed in on her face, unmoving, and at her chest, not rising and falling in the way he had come to memorize.

"And I think," said Bellatrix's voice, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

He felt Harry's arm reach out across his chest and it snapped him back to reality. Harry wanted him to stay back, but the next words from above caused his entire being to combust, and he couldn't hold on, not even for Harry.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" He screamed. That feral rage … that sense of limitless desperation … was finally freeing itself from his lips in a wave of fury. He ran up the stairs, the numbness and darkness he had felt only a moment before now replaced with a sharpness and clarity that was almost unbearable.

He could feel the warmth as he left the cold and dark hallway and moved into the grandness of the great room of Malfoy Manor. He could smell the filthy reeking of a dying dog wafting off of Greyback. He could taste the salt and dried blood that flowed down his face. He could see the light reflecting off the chandelier and he moved quickly into battle. He could hear her…even in the midst of disarming his opponents. He could hear her tiny breaths, and it moved him forward.

Despite his clarity, time slowed. He saw Harry obviously bounding up the steps just behind him, but he took an agonizingly long time to arrive on the scene. He disarmed her – that offensive, sorry excuse for a woman. He took that vile wand from her and took aim at the Malfoys with Wormtail's wand. Hermione's still form remained on the floor, and there was murder in his heart.

The sureness and the clarity disappeared as Bellatrix took Hermione and pressed a knife to the soft skin on her throat. The blood that fell from her neck hypnotized him, and he dropped the wands robotically. He was going to die. He wanted to die. Life without her was a hell he didn't even want to think about.

_How does it feel to know you're everything I need _

_The butterflies in my stomach _

_They could bring me to my knees _

_How does it feel to know you're everything I want _

_I've got a hard time saying this _

_So I'll sing it in a song_

Ron prepared to die. There was no point in fighting. He was a coward, and without her, he was even less than that. The blood dripped down her shirt like macabre sand in an eternal hourglass, ticking away to their deaths. He shook as he fought his despair. He still had Harry. Harry needed him and he couldn't leave his best mate again. As Harry's shoulder pressed against him, Ron closed his mind to his fear and thought only of Harry's need.

As his will strengthened, Ron saw a glimmer of hope out of the corner of his eye. Dobby was back. He came though for them in a more heroic way then the Ron of yesterday would have scarcely imagined. Then came an ominous creaking sound from above.

Bellatrix cast her prey aside as if the whole world didn't depend on that brilliant young witch waking up. Ron wanted to run to her, but a crash snapped him from determination. The massive structure of glass and light fell from the ceiling and was covering all but Hermione's delicate left hand. He ran to her, ignoring the shards of glass piercing his face. He dug for her, paying no attention as his fingers dripped blood on the pristine crystal.

He got to her, and his clarity returned. The pain from the glass felt good, it made him feel alive. He pulled her close to him, pressed his chest against hers and felt the faint beating of her heart. The drumming restored life to every inch of him.

"Ron, catch- and GO!"

Harry's determined face swam in Ron's eyes as a small wand flew through the air toward him. He looked at Harry, grateful for not giving in. Now, the world consisted only of his need to gaze into her eyes again as he apparated to Bill and Fleur's cottage by the sea.

He landed on his feet, the spongy ground keeping his ankles from giving out from the force of his Apparition. He held her close to him and ran toward the back door of the cottage on the cliff. He pounded on the door with his foot, not wanting to let loose his grip on the broken Hermione. His brother answered the door, wand drawn. He looked horrified at the sight of them.

"What position did I play in quidditch?"

"You didn't play. There were too many girls to snog…"

"What the hell happened?" Bill asked, moving aside to let Ron in. Fleur stood a few feet behind, a menacing look marring her beautiful features – a look that faded into worry as Ron sprinted up the stairs to lay Hermione in the room with the blue curtains. He barely even registered the presence of Luna on the settee and the sight of Dean leaning over her.

She let out a quiet groan as her laid her down on the narrow bed. She felt so small in his arms, so fragile. Hermione had never before seemed so breakable to him. Instead, she had always seemed larger than life, radiating a strength that would positively influence anyone around her. Now, she lay weak, limp, and barely breathing.

_Oh I adore the way you carry yourself _

_With the grace of a thousand angels overhead _

_I love the way the galaxy starts to melt _

_When we become one _

_When we become one_

"What happened, Ron?" asked Bill quietly as he walked into the room and placed a hand on his youngest brother's shoulder.

"Harry is on his way. I think the goblin is hurt," Ron answered, and Bill rushed out of the room. Ron sat on the end table and began to fish glass form the cuts on her face, careful not to cause her additional pain. He flinched which each sliver of glass he took from her skin, but continued.

"Ron, I need to know what 'appened, so zat I can 'elp," Fleur whispered, catching him off guard.

"I can't tell you," he said distractedly, moving his wand over each wound carefully, still removing glass.

Fleur swooped down next to him and put a soft hand on his bleeding arm. He didn't look up from his task.

"You can trust me. I won't tell Beel if you don't want me too…"

At this, Ron looked up at her. Her ice blue eyes were gazing at him with affection and understanding, the same way Hermione had always looked at him in their rare moments of levity. Ron had no choice but to trust Fleur. The world be damned, Hermione needed help.

"She may have been tortured," Ron said, running his hands lightly along her nose, the one area of her face that had not been cut. He couldn't keep his hands from her, for fear she might vanish, and he would find himself somehow back in that awful dungeon. Fleur's bare feet padded delicately into the room as she re-entered, holding some bottles filled with various potions.

"Okay. First, we need to get all of zis glass out of ze way," she lifted her wand and Ron stood in front of Hermione.

"You'll hurt her!"

"It needs to be done…"

Ron gave up, already cringing over what it would feel like.

"Zis will hurt you too…Accio glass!"

And before he could heed her warning, the shards of the chandelier were pulled from his flesh. He watched as the blood-dotted crystal flew to the ceiling and towards Fleur's wand. He felt burning and piercing as Fleur guided the shards of glass to a bowl she had placed on the floor next to her. As he was about to let his body take over and cry out in pain, Hermione let out a whimper. Flushed with relief at her ability to vocalize, Ron suppressed his own pain and ran to her side.

Tiny stains of blood were appearing on the sleeves of her jacket, the front of her shirt, and along her legs. He tried to comfort her as she slowly woke, tears streaming down her scratched and bloodied face.

"Ron?" she eeked out. He went to answer, but Fleur interrupted.

"First, we 'ave to heal zees cuts. Ron, take off her jacket. I'll get her socks and jeans," she said, immediately pulling off her socks and unbuttoning Hermione's jeans.

Ron turned his back and tried to focus on sitting her up carefully and sliding the jacket over her shoulders, leaving her in only a tattered sleeveless top. Her arms seemed in even worse condition than her face, for the cuts were deeper. He laid her carefully back on the pillow, but when she groaned, he clasped her hand between his, trying to comfort her as she slowly became alert. He could hear Fleur whispering spells that would mend her broken skin, but Ron was terrified at what else might be broken inside her. He thought back to Neville's parents in the hospital and moved closer to Hermione and gently pulled her arm to his chest. She started to cry as Fleur's wand continued to seal the small wounds on her face, leaving behind what looked like mild burns that slowly faded.

"Shhhhh, Hermione. You're okay. You're safe," he whispered, smoothing her hair back so he could better see her eyes, but they were still closed. He fought back the horrific lump that was rising in his throat, and kissed her forehead.

"It hurts," she whispered, gripping his hand. Fleur handed him a bottle of blue liquid he knew to be pain potion.

"Drink this, love, it'll help," he said, brining a shaking hand to her lips as he guided her to sit up with his other. Fleur quickly stacked pillows behind her to hold Hermione's weak form upright.

She swallowed greedily, causing herself to cough. The look of pain on her face told Ron that the simple act of coughing was exceedingly difficult for her. It ripped Ron up to see the tears in her eyes, especially since he still did not know how the ordeal had affected her emotionally. He barely got a half open glimpse from her as she cringed in pain.

"Fleur! I need some skelegro!" Bill's panicked voice came from the bottom of the stairs. She shuffled out of the room quickly and quietly.

Ron was completely at a loss. He ran his hands over her shaking back, pulling her toward him and attempting to calm and comfort her in any way he could. She just sobbed, and the sound of her choked cries tore through him once again. Sure, she was safe and he was there, but he couldn't do anything more to help her. He closed his eyes to keep from crying himself, and silently resolved to be there when his Hermione fully returned.

"Oh 'Mione! I'm sorry." He whispered between her quiet gasps for breath, letting his warm hands run over the chilled skin on her arms.

"None of this is your fault. It's unfathomable that you should apologize for what she…" Hermione spoke weakly, choking on her words. He was never so happy to hear her slightly condescending tone in all of his life. She gazed at him with pain, but also with affection and understanding.

He sat there, watching the light of a candle flicking in her glassy eyes. Then, forgetting any fear or misgiving, he moved to the bed and pulled her into his arms, resting his head in her hair and crying with her.

_How does it feel when we get locked into a stare? _

_Please don't come looking for me _

_When I get lost in the mess of your hair _

_How do you feel when everything you've known _

_Gets thrown aside _

_Never fear, my dear, 'cause we have nothing left to hide_

"I thought I had lost you. I couldn't…I can't…" he said into her hair.

"I was scared. I wanted to die. I never wanted to get out of that alive. I didn't intend to," she said, her warm breath grazing his shoulder as she spoke. "The pain was too much. I didn't want to live if it meant having to feel that."

"Oh Hermione! No. I can't go on with all of this without you here," he said, his heart pounding at the thought of her giving up.

"I heard you yelling and I stayed strong. I lied, knowing you and Harry needed me to," she said, her voice gaining some strength in the process.

"It's the bravest ting I ever heard," he whispered, moving his hands to her face. He wasn't shocked at his own open actions, for he simply craved feeling her and knowing she was real.

There was so much more to say. He wanted to tell her how they made it out, how Dobby saved them all in the nick of time. He wanted to show her what Harry had seen in the mirror, but as her breathing began to slow, all he wanted to do was hold onto her until for as long as he could.

"I promise, Hermione, I'll always be there."

"You kept that promise, Ron," she said, pulling back and looking into his eyes. The relief at feeling her there faded, and it left him with an urge to kiss every inch of her face. Those feelings made him feel guilty for being so insensitive, so he settled for crawling into the bed next to her, laying down and letting her rest her head on his chest.

_Hold on to me girl _

_If you feel your grip getting loose _

_Just know that I'm right next to you _

_Hold on to me girl _

_If you feel your grip getting loose _

_Just know that I won't let you down_

Approximately an hour later, Fleur came in, accompanied by Bill, and Ron couldn't hold back the blush at them finding him like that with Hermione.

"The elf is dead. Harry doesn't seem to be taking it well," Bill said. Ron gasped and carefully laid Hermione's sleeping form back on her pillow as Bill walked back out of the room. Fleur walked forward with a bundle of clothing. She set it on the nightstand and conjured a patronus.

"Ron ees 'ere. We are safe. Molly and Geeny are at Muriel's. I will keep in touch," she said, sending her dove on its way.

"What was that for?" he asked, wondering which member of his family she would feel compelled to notify. Fleur looked reluctant to say, and that's all the answer Ron needed.

"That git…" but Ron didn't' finish his rant as he looked out the window and saw Harry digging a hole in the yard. He looked back at Hermione and felt torn.

"I weel wake 'er shortly. I must check for any more injuries anyway," Fleur said gently. Ron raced down the stairs and out the door.

He found Harry digging furiously, unaware of the world around him. He saw the small bundle wrapped in Harry's coat, its feet sticking out of the bottom. He could hear the slap of the metal shovel in the dirt. Ron tasted the salt on his lips form the sea below them.

"How's Hermione?"

"Better," said Ron. "Fleur's looking after her."

He didn't need to ask Harry why he wasn't just casting a spell. Harry needed to vent, needed to think, needed to grieve. Ron wouldn't stop that, but he would help. The dirt that Harry flung out of the expanding hole smelled so visceral that Ron was compelled to go in and help him dig.

The cold breeze ran across the back of his neck, and he shuddered. This brave elf had kept them all from death for one more day. He had risked his life, and because of that, Hermione was still with them. Ron looked again at his tiny bare feet as Harry wrapped him more tightly in the coat, and felt struck by the memory of Dobby receiving socks with gusto at Christmas. He took his own socks and put them on his feet as Hermione hobbled over to the makeshift funeral. He put his arm around her, pulling her close to him and away from the cold uncertainty of their tomorrow.

_If I had to choose a way to die _

_It'd be with you _

_In a goosebump infested embrace _

_With my overanxious hands cupping your face _

_In a goosebump infested embrace _

_With my overanxious hands cupping your cherub face_


	8. Epilogue

** AN: Big thanks to my two betas. This is it! Keep an eye out for the sequel... "Transmission"**

**Epilogue **

Lee Jordan cast the necessary spells to break the wards on the tiny shack in the fields of Devon. He looked all around him, ensuring no one could see, and stealthily slipped through the rickety wooden doorway and into the windblown shack.

He had just gotten a hurried message from Fred's lemur patronus telling him that Harry Potter had just broken into Gringott's and escaped on a dragon. Lee rushed to his makeshift studio to await further news. This was the first official sighting of Potter in months, and he had broken into the most impenetrable wizarding facility imaginable. Because of this new development, Lee decided to set up his equipment and wait to break big news. He could feel a tingle in the back of his throat just waiting to burst forth and bring news of a change in the tides to everyone on the side of Light. He set up a cot and vowed not to leave until after a broadcast had been made, Spring storms be damned.

A few hours later, Lee was startled awake by a smattering of heavy rain on the slatted roof. He cost an Impervious charm on his equipment and stymied the water flow leaking from the ceiling. A storm was a good sign for Lee, as it told him the very air around them was gearing up for a fight. Soon, he hoped this would all be over.

After a few rousing games of Wizard's Chess with himself, and a few more hours of napping, the storm was raging and he still had no updates. As the sky darkened into nighttime, Lee's excitement had faded and he was about to go back to his flat when he heard the distinct flopping of feet in the puddle-ridden grass outside. Lee readied his wand, the adrenaline surging through him. There was a knock on the door; someone has broken down the wards.

"Password." He said, mustering his courage.

"I will kill you if I don't die of pneumonia first!" Came a sharp female voice.

"Yeah. Come on, Lee! Let us in!" came a much softer voice.

"What did I say the first time I asked you out?" He asked, practicing his security methods to the letter. Both women answered at the same time.

"Why don't you chase me around tonight?" Came the bored-sounding reply.

Lee felt a wave of self-satisfaction and opened the door wide.

"Ahhh. Well, if it isn't the Weasley lovers who think poor ickle Lee is beneath them," he exclaimed, letting Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell into the small, haphazard studio. His heart immediately skipped a beat when he saw the shadows hanging over the women's faces. He summoned a pot of tea from the hotplate in the corner and served them all, trying to remain calm.

"Potter is at Hogwarts. Word is, You Know Who is on his way. It's time to muster up a fight," Angelina said, her voice quivering as she talked.

"Fred and George are already there with their family. They contacted us to come and find you," Katie said, wringing her hands in her lap.

Lee paused, his mouth going dry. This is what they had been waiting for all year. Every one of his friends and loved ones were poised to fight … to take their world back. He could feel the determination moving physically through his being. He flexed his hands in a fist, took a deep breath, and moved forward. It was his turn to shine.

Lee swept his wand over the soundboards and the microphones, a soft whirring and a flashing of lights filled the small structure.

"Well, ladies. Let's call up the troops!" He exclaimed, handing them all headphones and mikes.

"Good evening friends. Welcome to a special edition of _Potterwatch_. I'm River, of course, and Raven and the lovely Rain are joining us on this stormy evening. Raven?"

"Thank you, River. We have received word that the rumors are true. Harry Potter did in fact break into Gringott's. For what reason we do not know, but after months, things are finally coming to a head. Rain?"

"Harry Potter is now at Hogwarts. The battle is coming, and we will fight for our world on the grounds of the house that The Light built. We are calling for anyone who's willing to fight, not just for Potter, but for everything we hold dear," Katie finished, her voice quivering.

"There you have it, loyal listeners. Those in the highlands, to Hogwarts! Those in hiding, to Hogwarts with you! Those in plain sight, mount your brooms! Those who want to be free of this tyranny and cruelty, to Hogwarts with you! And for those who we have lost, Albus Dumbledore, Cedric Diggory, Emmeline Vance, Amelia Bones, and Alastor Moody, we shall all brandish our wands! To Hogwarts to fight!

Keep each other safe, keep faith…and hopefully, we won't need another password."

Lee finished, turned off his equipment, and apparated after Katie and Angelina. It was to Hogwarts with him.


End file.
